


The Last Prince

by EightLeggedFox



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 21:41:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 93,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21755902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EightLeggedFox/pseuds/EightLeggedFox
Summary: Down in the southern village of the Kingdom of Maroowen, Jihoon has always played it safe and innocent much his entire life thanks to the shelter of his father. He behaves, always does as he's told, and mostly stays out of trouble if he can help it.On an unassuming day, however, he breaks the rules that's been set for him and accidentally befriends a stranger he meets at the local markets—a boy with crooked teeth and a fondness for cats. Seemingly unconnected, his life then takes a massive detour from safety when he suddenly finds himself becoming the personal servant of the crowned prince; the first of his many lessons that will teach him that life will not always go the way as planned.
Relationships: Kang Daniel/Ong Seongwu, Kang Daniel/Park Jihoon
Comments: 25
Kudos: 120





	1. Breath of the Wild

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little background rambling before anything. I just want to mention that I had this idea quite early in the year, during the time I was writing down my first nielwink fic. Now, I am very much aware (and so terribly conflicted) with regards to a certain person from this ship that I almost ended up throwing this story to another pair/fandom altogether.
> 
> But I couldn't. Haha
> 
> This story has been solidifying in my head for almost half this entire year. In and between all the other fics I've already published, I just couldn't pass it on carelessly like that. And when I actually began to write this around a month ago, it all practically wrote itself down and, well—here we are. I might rewrite this and transpose to another fandom like I had planned, but I first wanted to post it for what it originally is. 
> 
> I think Jihoon will always be my muse now in terms of writing, and I don't think I can ever let him go in anything I may write in the future. But for now, if you decide to go on this adventure with me, here's to what's probably the last saga I write for NielWink :)

There is a puffy gust of air before anything, starting out slow like as if someone is merely whistling a small tune in front of his face in a slow breath. It doesn’t really do much to bother him, but all too soon it turns into rapid successions of wind that comes in staggering blows which hit his cheeks, his closed eyelids, his forehead—all before the grand finale of a cool-tipped nub pressing and poking at the side of his face.

“Just a few more minutes,” Jihoon says drowsily, waving a hand in front of him to shoo away the disturbance. A futile effort, really, when the next thing he feels is a solid kind of wetness that swipes across his face starting from the base of his chin up to his nose. 

“Okay, okay! I’m up! Stop!” He says with a laugh while simultaneously veering himself away from the onslaught of a tongue. He stretches his limbs, lets out a moan and one last jaw-breaking yawn before he sits up and rubs his eyes of sleep; finally opening them to a bush of brownness with a pair of beady eyes that definitely look much too amused over his successful ministrations.

“Very funny Ansel,” Jihoon says, which gets him another lick on the cheek that he wipes off with the back of his sleeve. “Where’s your brother?” He asks, but one look around the forest clearing already gives him the answer when he spots the small deer still lying on his side a few feet away from him. He rolls his eyes in fond exasperation, dusting the butt of his trousers as he gets up from the grass.

“Dorian. Hey, wake up sleepyhead,” Jihoon says in making his way over to the slumbering fawn, gently tapping its hind leg to stir it awake. He smiles when the creature blinks its wide eyes open, letting out a small yawn as well.

“Nap time’s over buddy. I promised your mother not to keep you out before the sun starts to set,” he says to his waking four-legged friend. He turns his face to the sky to see how blue it still is with afternoon sunlight just to be sure, although he trusts Ansel’s judgment more than his own ability to tell the time. 

He feels a wet poke behind his forearm to see the smart deer himself calling his attention, holding in his jaw Jihoon’s basket of berries that they had collected earlier.

“Thank you, Ansel.” He pats him on the head, brushing his fingers across his fur. “You two know your way back right?” He asks, satisfied when the pair blinks at him in a way that he knows mean affirmation. 

“Good. Remember not to take the eastern path okay?” He thinks about how Sorsha and her family of wild cats down that way are probably just waking up from their afternoon nap as well. Ansel just scoffs at him, or whatever he thinks is close to one in the form of a deer’s breath.

“Ya, I’m just reminding you. Your father will have my arse by the antlers if you two don’t get home safe,” he says with a chuckle, smiling in amusement. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

When the fawn brothers nuzzle their goodbyes to his palm, Jihoon watches their retreating figures until they leave the clearing before he too makes his way back towards the opposite side with his basket in hand. He touches one of the trees along the way and says a silent thanks in his head for giving them such a nice and serene nap today, and the cool, leafy breeze that blows back at him makes him smile in return.

He takes his usual shortcut, treading through familiar roots on the soil and across the small stream that leads him through a bush of thorns that leave him unscathed; turning the layman’s twenty-minute journey into four until the density of the woods thin out and he finally sees the beginnings of the southern walls of Maroowen.

He smiles at the guards stationed at the gate who by now are accustomed to his comings and goings to the forest, and pretty soon the quiet provided by his favorite rendezvous is replaced by the afternoon hubble of the village in this part of the kingdom that he calls home. Traders and vendors taking in the last few hours left before they close up shop for the day, and children running around and playing to their heart’s content down the streets and main pathways. Jihoon waves at the kind lady running an apple cart in front of her house when he passes, and he pets the dog of the local tavern owner when he makes his way around the turn of the cobblestone path like always.

“Well look what the forest spat out.”

He doesn’t even flinch a single muscle at the sound of the voice that joins in beside him, and just carries on walking even when the person casually takes a few berries from his basket to pop inside his mouth.

“Woojin.” He hums in acknowledgment, their footsteps syncing in line with each other.

“You got a lot today. And they’re really sweet.” His friend remarks, grabbing another blueberry from his bunch. “I bet Ansel’s the one who found the shrub these came from.”

Jihoon laughs at that. Woojin isn’t wrong.

“These were by the river. I didn’t even think to check and I seriously thought Ansel was just pulling my leg when he kept nabbing at my shirt earlier.”

“Good lad. You gotta hand it to him though, he’s a lot smarter than the average deer.” Woojin muses midchew, tilting his head to the side. “Heck, he’s probably a lot smarter than you.”

“Then I guess that makes you dead bottom then.” Jihoon teases, earning him a playful punch on the bicep.

"I'll have you know that I got good marks on my test today," Woojin says smugly, rewarding himself with another berry. "And I managed to finish faster than the rest of my class too."

Jihoon smiles at him fondly, tamping down the pride he feels for his best friend lest he grows an inflated head. “So, anything else happen today besides you acing your test?” The question comes out casual, well-matched by the turning of his head in what he thinks passes for mild curiosity. He catches sight of Woojin thinking with his eyes turned upward.

“Not really. More maths and numbers than my head can handle, definitely. And some bit of history,” he answers, shrugging. “Although tomorrow I think we’ll be studying basic weaponry. Nothing much.”

“Ah.” Jihoon won’t say it, but he can tell how much Woojin is trying to hide the excitement in his voice by saying that and how far his apparent disinterest in the topic actually reaches. He lets him be a good friend though, and just waves it off with his own feigned indifference. “Sounds fun.”

"I'd much rather spend time at the forest with you and the boys though." Woojin shrugs in honest nonchalance. "I wish summer would come faster."

Jihoon laughs, his head shaking with his shoulders. "Just a few more weeks, Woojin."

"Exactly." Woojin snorts, a hard sniff in the air. “Have you asked your father again yet?” He questions, and the tinge of concern in his voice forces Jihoon to chuckle a little, if only to hide his derisive snort.

“No,” he says, and just to steer away from the heaviness of his answer he follows it up with a hopeful lilt. “I plan to, though. Soon.”

Woojin nods at him, complete understanding passing between them in the silence of his gesture. “I hope he says yes.”

That makes both of them, Jihoon thinks, but he doesn’t say it aloud.

When they arrive at the small street where only two shabby-looking houses a few feet apart from each other are in occupance, Woojin takes one last berry from his basket and pats him on the shoulder in good nature. Jihoon smiles and waves at the lady sweeping the porch next door and chuckles when he sees her ruffling Woojin’s hair. He gives one last nod to his neighbor and best friend then, before he heads in for the day and enters his own front door.

“Appa, I’m home,” Jihoon calls out in the relative emptiness of their house’s entrance, toeing his shoes off before sauntering over to their small kitchen and placing the basket of berries down on one of their dining chairs. 

“Ah, Jihoon. I’m in here!” 

Jihoon follows the voice, towards the part of their small house where the supposed tidiness of their abode starts looking a little bit wilder. If the general common area and living quarters are kept clean under his diligence, his father’s work area is another matter that he can only hope to tame someday. He hasn’t even stepped inside the room yet and already he sees patches of cloth and loose threads littering the floor. The life of a tailor, his father says, although Jihoon thinks he’s just messy.

“Wow,” is the first thing to come out of his mouth upon entering the room. As chaotic as his workroom is, Jihoon knows that the artistry and craft of his father is well worth the mess he produces in return. Right now, for instance, he’s staring at a thick tunic dyed in burgundy; the rich hue serving as a beautiful base for the embroidered vines running up the sleeves and at the hem in gold, glittering threads. Jihoon has never seen a prince before, but he thinks that whoever nobleman his father sells this piece of garment to will probably outshine any in the land.

“Neat, huh?” His father smiles, tipping a chin over at his latest masterpiece. “You’re just in time too. I need your help to hold the cuffs down.”

Jihoon smiles, relishing in the honor of having to touch the marvel of his father’s creation. It’s not the first time and definitely not the last, but the feeling he gets in being useful is something that he thinks can never be paralleled. He does as he’s told, carefully keeping still as he watches his father do some final threadwork; admiring the way his expert hands glide and poke the needle across the fabric in a dance of detailed splendor.

“So how was your day son? Anything new out in the woods?” His father asks in idle chat, eyes never leaving his task.

“We didn’t really go all that far,” Jihoon answers. “Although Ansel did find some bushes I never picked on before. Near the riverbanks.”

“Oh? You got a lot?”

Jihoon hums in assent, nodding blindly. “I’ll pack a few jars to give to Woojin’s family tomorrow. Maybe I can even make jam.”

“Mmm, that’ll be nice.” His father muses, eyes squinting in concentration. The next few words Jihoon wants to say are already fighting their way to the tip of his tongue that by the time his father gets up and gives the garment he’s working on a final nod of approval, Jihoon all but trips over his sentences.

“Woojin told me he did well on his tests today,” he starts, eyes carefully watching for the slightest reaction. When his father looks only to be too engrossed in surveying his handiwork, he continues. “He told me they’ll be learning about basic weaponry tomorrow too.”

“Oh?” His father says, distracted when it seems he’s spotted a loose thread on one of the sleeves.

“It sounds really interesting.” Jihoon tiptoes, lips pursed in hesitation as he approaches the peak. “And since the academy classes are almost over this year...I was kind of hoping to ask you if maybe you’d reconsider—”

“Jihoon.”

His eyes flinch involuntarily over the tone of voice that he knows needs no further explanation. He looks up slowly, meeting his father’s concerned gaze that seconds ago seemed like weren’t paying that much attention to him. Jihoon wants to shrink and just drop the topic altogether, but he tells himself that he’s already gone this far. What’s a few steps more?

“I’ve been working really hard doing chores around the village and I’ve saved up a lot, Appa. And I still am. I even asked Woojin to ask his parents how much they’re spending to send him to the academy and I think—”

“You know it’s not a matter of money, Jihoon,” his father says morosely, a small but sad smile lingering at the corner of one side of his mouth. “And I would love nothing more than to send you to the academy too, believe me. But you know why we can’t do that.”

“I’ll be good, Appa. I’ll be careful—”

“Missis Yoon came by after lunch today. She gave me a few peaches that she’s grown in her yard,” his father says, his tone just a little reprimanding. “She told me you helped get her cat that got stuck in her tree two days ago. Mentioned that she’d been getting her husband to climb it all day to no avail and then you show up and just _asked_ for it to come down. She gave the peaches to say thank you.”

Jihoon purses his lips, looking down at his feet in shame. He hears his father sigh, light footsteps coming toward him in the echo of their wooden floor before he feels a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m not against you doing that, Jihoon. Please don’t get me wrong.” His voice is softer this time, more sympathetic. “But this just proves to me that no matter how careful you may tread, there will always be people who will notice. That’s just something we cannot afford. This was just in the backyard of one of the villagers, what more in the academy where you lot are expected to perform to the best of your abilities? And not that it’s a bad thing, but you and I both know how competitive you can get sometimes.”

His father chuckles a little at that to lighten his words, and it works a smidge when Jihoon feels himself pulling out a pout.

“Tell you what,” his father continues, tipping his chin up to face him. “You just hold on to your savings and I’ll give you some coin tomorrow to buy any book you want to read from the book shop. Okay?”

It’s not okay. But Jihoon knows when he’s at his end and he knows that his father is doing his best to appease him. He pulls out a small smile then right before he nods. “Okay.”

That night Jihoon spends a few long hours sitting on his desk by candlelight, staring at illustrations of swords and shields and spears from the weapon compendium that his father had gotten him from the last time he had asked if he could enroll at the academy. It’s as close as he’s going to get from the lessons Woojin will be receiving tomorrow and however frail the consolation may seem, it at least gives him enough comfort to sleep through the night.

  
  
  
  
  


The streets are busy the following morning, more than usual that tells Jihoon that shipment traders are probably passing through town today. He sees colorful the caravans and a flock of people all heading towards the main square, and more horses than he’s familiar with look at him when he passes their general line of sight. Excitement is in the air, and there’s a skip to his step at the idea that there will probably be new books at the bookshop too.

His father had given him more coin today than he usually does, and although it’s not enough to buy him two volumes, the prospect of a freshly baked sweet roll from the bakers excite him just as much as written ink on paper. 

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?!”

The shout is loud enough for the whole market square to hear and definitely not a phrase that’s new to the villagers around these parts, but Jihoon has always been on the edge of curiosity that he can’t really help himself when he looks over to where the commotion is unfolding. He stops in his tracks, side steps a little when a caravan horse neighs at him to pass, and turns his attention to one of the visiting trader wagons.

The bellower, a big guy with a tattoo of a boat anchor on his right bicep, seems to be selling roasted fish on his wagon but is now currently gripping the arm of the customer he had just yelled at.

“I’ll come back and pay for it later, I promise. I just didn’t bring any coin with me right now and—”

“The hell to your excuses! Either you give my fish back or you cough up some money you damn boy!”

“I can pay. Just not now sir. Please—”

“Did your mother drop you in the head or something?! Because I wasn’t and all I can see is a street rat stealing me of my profit!”

Jihoon’s eyebrows dip in a frown at that. It isn’t any of his business, but if there was one thing in the world that he could never _ever_ tolerate, it’s a bully. He never tolerated them when he was six years old and some of the other kids made fun of Woojin’s snaggletooth. He never stood by and did nothing when some other deer in the forest occasionally pushed Dorian around when he’s trying to eat in peace. And he sure as hell won’t let it pass to see a bigger man throw insults to one of the people in his village.

“Just give him the fish old man,” Jihoon says in his most menacing voice, crossing his arms and tipping his chin up when he walks over to the two.

“Who are you calling old you brat—”

“Here’s his payment.” Jihoon cuts him off by slamming his pouch on the man’s wagon, coins rattling inside in hard clinks. “My friend said he’ll be paying later because he forgot to bring this with him. No one is trying to steal from you.”

He can feel both men staring at him incredulously, although he knows they’re probably of varying reasons. The trader finally lets go of the iron grip he has on the customer and grumbles something about probably not paying enough when he goes to count the money Jihoon just gave him. He knows for a fact that it’s actually more than enough, and he doesn’t let the smugness drop from his face when the trader looks up at them again in hidden glee.

“Alright, go take the fish,” is all he says again before he pockets Jihoon’s pouch.

“Apologize to my friend first,” Jihon says, scowl unwavering.

“For what?”

“For mistaking him for a thief. For calling him a street rat.”

Instead of words, primitiveness scales higher when the trader proceeds to spit on the ground beside Jihoon’s boots. “I ain’t apologizing to no stinky rat you little fuck. Now go before I change my mind and introduce you to my fist.”

“Now listen here you old piece of shit—”

“—thank you,” the other boy holds him back, placing a hand on his arm. “I’m really sorry for the confusion. My friend and I will be going now.”

Much to Jihoon’s displeasure, the other boy is surprisingly strong in that he manages to pull him away from the scene fast enough for him not to get another word out. He gets pulled into one of the alleys away from the major thoroughfare before the stranger finally lets go and turns around to face him.

“You didn’t have to do that,” the stranger says. Jihoon is in the process of rubbing his arm from this guy’s grip that he’s a little caught off guard when he finally looks up to meet his face.

He’s a lot taller than he had expected, and his dark brown hair is brushed down long enough to cast a curtain over his eyes. Not only that, he has a hood on, drawn up over his head that casts an even darker shadow on his features more than his hair ever could. It’s strange, is what his brain immediately supplies him with, that it takes him a while to answer back.

“That old fool was insulting you. I didn’t want to just stand there and—”

“Pay.” The stranger cuts him off, stern and commanding. “You didn’t have to pay for my mistake back there. How much did it cost you?”

Jihoon blinks, right before he chuckles and smiles rather mischievously. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about that,” he says, biting his lower lip as he pulls out his coin pouch—the same one he just gave to the trader a minute ago. The surprise in blown eyes from the other person is priceless.

“What? How did you—?”

“First of all, I’m not a thief,” Jihoon disclaims, albeit rather smugly. “But, I know how to be one when the occasion calls for it.” He throws the money pouch in the air, catching it in a swift display of agility.

“That’s—” The other boy merely shakes his head, smiling in amazement. “I definitely shouldn’t condone such acts but damn. I’m in awe.”

Jihoon laughs, unabashed and welcome when the stranger laughs with him too. He puts out a hand. “I’m Jihoon.”

There’s a second of hesitation, small enough to probably go unnoticed by anyone else, before the other boy takes and shakes it with a smile. “My name’s Euigeon. It’s nice to meet you Jihoon.”

“Likewise.” Jihoon smiles back. “I do hope that the fish you got is as tasty as the trouble it was worth getting.”

Euigeon’s eyebrows shoot up, mildly surprised. “Oh, these aren’t for me. I—umm…” He mumbles, scratching the back of his hooded head.

“For a friend?” Jihoon offers, curious himself.

“Well...I guess you could say that,” he says, tilting his head a little in thought. “I can show you, if you’d like. Unless you’re busy then I’d much rather not take up more of your time than I already have.”

Jihoon chuckles, shaking his head. “No need to be so formal. And sure, I have all the time. It’s no problem.”

This seems to please him, and he nods and asks him to follow without much more preamble. They take to the alleys for a little while, only going out onto main streets and busy junctions when they’re crossing to another alley along the way. Jihoon knows his way around the village like the back of his hand and he knows that they’re nearing the edge of the southern sector by the time Euigeon slows down his pace.

Eventually, he stops behind one of the bigger buildings in the area and to Jihoon’s surprise, crouches down on his knees at the crevice of one of the stone steps before pulling out the bag he had placed his fishes in.

“Umm, you may have to stand back a little first. They can be a little wary of strangers,” Euigeon says, sheepish in tone. Jihoon does as he asks and merely watches from his spot how the taller boy starts to pluck pieces of meat from the skewered fish and proceeds to place it in the palm of his hand. 

It happens in no less than a minute, when the first pointy-eared critter pops its head out from one of the crates lined against the walls. It looks at Euigeon, then at Jihoon, but _because_ it’s just Jihoon the cat doesn’t so much than bat an eyelid before proceeding to scurry towards Euigeon’s outstretched hand to eat the first few pieces of fish meat. 

A second cat joins in, coming in from the same crate and looking just a scrawny as the first. Euigeon picks up his pace then, making sure that both cats get equal amounts of food. Jihoon smiles.

“Glad to see the trouble was worth it then,” he says, walking nearer. Euigeon looks up at him for a second and then at the cats, the slightest confusion passing through his face over why the cats are not running away or even making any attention to his presence. Jihoon laughs a little, kneels down on the ground beside him to help him dismantle the fish meat.

“They like you,” Euigeon says as a fact, still staring at him in wonder. “You know, it took me a few weeks before they even dared to let me touch them. I have the cat scratches to prove it.”

“Must be your get up then.” Jihoon chuckles. “You look like a classic storybook villain with that cloak on. Are you really that cold?”

“Ah, yes.” Euigoen nods, but doesn’t say more on the topic. “But still, it’s like they already know you. Peter especially _hates_ people.”

“Peter?” Jihoon raises an eyebrow, a laugh in his throat. “Which one of these two lady-cats is Peter?”

“The brown one.” Euigeon bites his lip, sheepish. “How do you know they’re girls? I just assumed and never bothered to check ‘cause the last time I tried they almost bit me.”

Now it’s Jihoon’s turn to press his lips into a line, the words his father had told him last night echoing in his head. “Just a hunch.” He shrugs, and immediately jumps for a different topic. “So do you live around here? I mean, I’d understand why you were in such a pickle to get these fishes earlier if it meant having to walk all the way back to the square just to grab the money you forgot to bring.”

“Umm, no. I actually live farther up north,” Euigeon says, and Jihoon immediately sees the way his eyes widen slightly as if he wasn’t supposed to have said that.

“Close to the palace?” Jihoon asks and then it all starts to make sense. “No wonder you talk like the way you do.”

Euigeon rounds on him, eyebrow raised. “Why? How do I talk?”

“I dunno.” Jihoon shrugs, eyes going back to the cats. “You sound more...educated, I guess.”

“Educated. And yet I’m stealing fish from a traveling trader to feed some stray cats.” Euigeon scoffs, although there’s a lightness to it.

“Good ol’ Robin Hood then.”

“ _You’re_ Robin Hood.” Euigeon points out. “I’m just your Little John.”

Jihoon laughs, the movement he makes making one of the cats blink up at him in a silent question of _what’s so funny?_

“Thank you though,” Euigeon continues, and Jihoon comes to see that he’s looking at him. “I don’t think I said it back there but...thanks. That was really kind of you.”

Jihoon smiles, looking back down again. “If you had mentioned much earlier that you were doing it for these friends of yours, I would’ve come to your rescue much sooner.”

“I’m glad I got your attention then,” Euigeon says, a fondness in his tone. “Not a lot of people would say the same to a pair of dirty street cats.”

One of them meows, a low rumbling purr.

“Peter says she’s not dirty. She just licked herself clean a few hours ago, thank you very much.” 

Euigeon laughs at that, a different kind this time that comes out in a breathy staccato. Jihoon also only notices now how big his two front teeth are from the rest of his dentures, making him look all the more youthful. Soft.

They continue to feed the cats until all that’s left in their hands are fish bones and hard fins. Peter and—after Jihoon learns later that the other female cat has also been given a male name—Rooney hang out with them after their bellies are filled for lunch until they grow bored of human interactions and go about their own way. Jihoon faces the sky, notes the high mid-noon sun above them and starts to think about his own lunch.

“You hungry?” He asks Euigeon who’s just getting up from the ground.

“A little,” he says, touching his belly. “But I should probably start heading back. My house is umm...quite a bit of a walk from here.”

“All the more reason not to do it on an empty stomach.” Jihoon winks at him, tilting his head to the side. “We should probably stay clear away from the square for now, but I’m friends with the baker near here and he makes some really good bread paired with vegetable soup. He’s probably just finished cooking right about now.”

“Oh.” Euigeon purses his lips, seeming to really consider it. “I don’t have any money with me though.”

“That’s okay. I have enough for both of us.” Jihoon says, although it means he most likely won’t be able to buy a book today. 

“Are you sure?” 

He rolls his eyes, taking in Euigeon’s hesitant expression before grabbing his cat-licked hands in his own and dragging him to the nearest well of water to wash. “Just pay me back when you’re in town again.”

In the end, lunch turns out to be a fantastic idea that Jihoon doesn’t feel a single strand of regret for spending. The book can wait, he thinks, but a spontaneous friend made on a good day such as this is an opportunity that shouldn’t be missed. He learns that Euigeon is about three years older than him, and like him only lives with his father in the northern part of the kingdom. He doesn’t talk much about himself, or at least not as much as he laughs, which Jihoon finds is quite a contagious trait of his.

Euigeon tells him stories about what it’s like in his part of the village, the subtle differences and the kinds of food they have there as compared to here in the south. Jihoon in turn tells him his favorite things of here in their part, about the woods that surround the southern gates and how he likes going out there every once in a while (a white lie considering he probably goes to visit Ansel and Dorian five out of the seven days in a week). 

“I have a cat back home too.”

“Oh?” Jihoon raises a playful eyebrow. “Is she also a _she_ that you’ve blessed with a man’s name?”

It comes again, Euigeon’s laugh, following not too later before his own.

“I gave her a more neutral name, I’ll have you know. Her name is Ori.”

By the time they actually become aware of the sun’s position in the sky, the blues of the heavens are already starting to tinge a little pink. With much reluctance, Euigeon hangs his head and gets up from under the shade of the tree they’ve been sitting at all afternoon, offering a hand to him to help him up as well. Jihoon notices him looking over at the horizon, to where Maroowen Castle sits as it gets bathed in sunset light.

“I should go,” Euigeon says, rather reluctantly if Jihoon is reading him right. “Thank you for today Jihoon. I’m...really happy that I got to spend the day like this with you.”

The statement is so frank, so unexpectedly honest, that Jihoon’s brain doesn’t automatically supply him with a proper response. Instead what comes out is a vaguely inhuman sound from the base of his throat as he looks down and scratches the top of his head in a stutter, and he’s never been more thankful for his new friend’s laugh for having the ability to cut through the awkwardness.

“You see that mill over there,” Jihoon says after he’s composed himself, pointing to the left side of their vantage point. “Behind that is the street where my father and I live in. There are only two houses on that street, and ours is the one with the blue roof. If you’re ever in this part of town again, make sure you visit me.”

Euigeon squints his eyes to see where he’s pointing at before nodding earnestly. He tops it off with his bunny-like smile. “I will. I shall see you again then.”

“You owe me money.” Jihoon snorts followed by a small laugh. “You better make sure you see me again.”

“Okay. Thanks again, Jihoon.”

Euigeon holds out his hand to shake, and Jihoon doesn’t hesitate in taking it.

“See you, Euigeon.”

  
  
  
  
  


The sun has gone and set by the time Jihoon’s slow stroll takes him back to his street. It’s been quite a day, certainly not an expected one by way of any of the events that happened but it’s definitely not something he minds. He smiles at the thought of his newfound friend, of the tall boy whose face is almost mostly shrouded in shadow but carrying with it a smile that burns as bright as the midday sun. Maybe he can ask his father to take him along with him the next time he goes to the northern part of the kingdom for trade. Maybe he can see Euigoen there.

Jihoon stays in this line of thinking for much of the rest of his walk back home that he becomes too distracted in his wistfulness to notice the immediate difference in his surroundings. It’s only when he’s already a few feet away from his house that he does, just after he makes the turn at the corner of their street, noticing how awfully bright it is considering the time of day. There’s only one oil-lamp post on his and Woojin’s street, but tonight he comes there to a multitude of light sources.

He counts seven in his head from his immediate perception. Seven people standing outside his house and carrying lanterns that cast long, eerie shadows on the beat-down path. There’s a nagging at the back of his head, warning bells screaming for him to turn and head the other way which he doesn’t even remotely understand because he’s just heading home. This is his house and—

“There he is!! There’s that fucking thief!”

One of the men yell in his general direction, signalling every person in the vicinity to turn and face him. Jihoon sees his father first, his expression pained and worried under the yellow glow of the lights. He sees Woojin and his parents near the back, all staring at him with the same colors on their faces. Before Jihoon can even register anything more, two of the men at this little gathering are walking to him, and it’s only when they’re a few steps nearer that he recognizes their guard uniforms.

“Wha—hey! Let me go!” 

“That little fuck stole from me, sabotaged my wagon and stabbed me in the arm!” The man who was yelling earlier screams for him again, and Jihoon finally makes out the familiarity and puts two and two together: it’s the fish vendor from the market square.

“Park Jihoon, you are under arrest for multiple accounts of felony. You are to remain silent and to come with us for sentencing.”

“What?!” Jihoon tries to struggle out but the grip on his arm is like an iron vice. What’s more, the sight of his father coming in to run towards him is enough to sap all the strength out of him.

“Officers, please. T-there must be some kind of mistake,” his father pleads, frantic with fear. “My son would never do such a thing. He doesn’t even carry a knife with him.”

“Tell that to this gaping hole in my forearm!” The old trader says, raising his bandaged limb. 

“Liar!” Jihoon barks, but his face softens again when he turns to his father. “Appa...Appa I didn’t—”

The sharp pull on his arm from one of the guards winces the breath out of him. He tries to struggle free, lifting one of his legs to kick a shin. “Let me go! That man is lying! Let me—”

He feels a hard thump whack him on the back of the head, excruciatingly painful for a second right before a wash of numbness envelopes his body. And the last thing Jihoon sees before his vision starts to go black is his father’s face contorted in a silent scream, awash with tears that forever burn themselves as he slips from consciousness.


	2. A Prince's Folly

Daniel opens his eyes to the early morning sun, his vision first landing on the velvet canopy that surrounds his bed frame. He stretches his limbs, yawns, and rubs off the final remnants of sleep from his eyes before getting up and preparing himself for the day; just the thought of which already making him want to crawl back under his covers and spend a few more hours in slumber.

He takes his time washing himself, fixing his hair, making sure he smells good mostly for the fact that such acts only require a sort of mindlessness that allows his thoughts to wander elsewhere. By the time he’s finished affixing the layers of garments Daehwi had picked for him today (a royal blue tunic with gold and brown accents to match his hair), he stares at his reflection in the mirror and nods once at his presentable figure.

“Finally,” is the first word he hears upon exiting his bed chambers. An exasperated huff of breath coming from his appointed royal guard and best friend. “I’ve waited an entire five minutes at your door, you know. Would it kill you to get ready just a little bit faster?”

“Good morning to you too, Jaehwan,” Daniel says as they walk in stride down the halls, starting their daily routine of heading for the palace’s kitchens at the peak of the morning.

“We best avoid the main hall, by the way. Unless you want them to see you and get dragged to join them for breakfast.”

Daniel frowns in confusion, facing his friend. “ _ Them? _ ”

Jeahwan nods, distaste written on his features. “The visiting prince and his entourage arrived this morning. A little too early if you ask me. They’re having breakfast with your father as we speak.”

Daniel sighs and rolls his eyes at the news. He follows Jaehwan’s advice and makes a left turn after they take one of the stairs to steer clear of the dining hall; a longer and rather unconventional, but highly necessary, way to get to the kitchens.

“I didn’t see you come back last night,” Jaehwan tells him in a quieter voice, one that Daniel is still surprised that his friend is actually capable of making. “I checked on all your secret ‘rabbit holes’ before I went to bed but you were already in your chambers by then. Which one did you use last night?”

At that Daniel lets out a soft chuckle, a mischievous one that forms a sly smirk on his lips. “I may or may not have discovered a new one. You’re going to have to work a little harder than that Jaen.”

“Ha-ha, funny.” Jaehwan sneers at him. “You say that as if you forget that  _ I’m  _ the one covering for your sneaky arse every time you scurry away like a cat on the prowl.”

“Which is precisely why I have no qualms of you finding this new rabbit hole.” Daniel teases, his smile growing wider. “If I tell you now then where’s the fun in that?”

“You’re a prick, you know that?” Jaehwan laughs, poking an elbow to his rib. “So where’d you run off to this time?”

The question immediately brings a certain blonde boy to the forefront of his mind. He smiles to himself, his thoughts taking him back to the narrow alleyways and the cool afternoon breeze coming in from the forest of the southern village.

“I went to visit Peter and Rooney,” he says in answer, for which he gets a slight look of surprise in return.

“That far?” Jaehwan whistles an impressed sort of tune. “Well, I hope your walk was worth it. How are those two doing?”

“They’re good. Healthy. Happy.” Daniel smiles, already losing his best friend’s interest when they finally make the final turn and reach the palace kitchens. The smell of the food is amazing, but Daniel whispers one last thing, mostly to himself, before he too joins in. “And yes. It was definitely worth the walk.”

  
  
  
  
  


“Prince Daniel.” Jisung bows to him on his seat at the throne room, just beside his father. “Presenting to you the prince of the eastern kingdom of Hardfort, Prince Kyungsoo.”

Daniel rises from his position to welcome the esteemed guest in front of them, bowing politely when the gesture is given to him. He takes in Prince Kyungsoo’s appearance for the first time; dressed to impress in his black leather-like garb complete with a velvety cape. His entourage even matches him, and Daniel will admit that his face is a lot fairer than most of whom he’s been acquainted with. 

“Prince Daniel, it is in my humblest honor to meet you,” he says, words weighted and firm with manners and respect.

“Likewise, Prince Kyungsoo. I have been informed that you have already met my father and have broken fast with him this morning. I apologize if I was not able to be there.”

“No need for apologies, your greatness.” Kyungsoo throws him a winning smile, one he doesn’t doubt is practiced avidly to win the hearts of many. “I completely understand upon seeing you now what it must take in the morning to be as dashing as you present yourself for.”

Daniel tilts his head in amusement. So the lad knows how to flirt.

“In any case,” Kyungsoo continues with a clap of his hand. “As I have mentioned to the king earlier, I come bearing gifts from my small but prideful kingdom.”

He proceeds to gesture to one side of his entourage, and Daniel watches as they bring forth a large, intricately designed bassinet before uncovering its surface to reveal a bunch of vibrant and colorful spices.

“From the people of my kingdom where we grow the best spices in the eastern lands, as I have heard that you are particularly fond of such flavors,” Kyungsoo says with a flourish, gesturing next to his right for the rest of his entourage to present the final gifts.

“And as a personal gift from yours truly, a silk blanket crafted by four of our best craftsmen. For your chambers, my Prince.”

It’s all very impressive, if he may say so himself. He steals a look from his best friend who stands by his side just below the throne, noting the small upturn of his mouth to know his same sentiments of approval. Daniel has to admit, he kind of likes the guy.

“My sincerest gratitude, Prince Kyungsoo,” he says with a slight bow of his head. “But I’m afraid I will have to offer my apologies again, for I have not prepared any gifts at such a marvelous scale as yours.”

“Oh that is quite fine, my Prince.” Kyungsoo bows again, and he rises back with that same practiced smile. “Material gifts can never properly match over the opportunity of getting to know you and have you hand in marriage.”

Daniel thinks he hears Jaehwan snicker, and he himself is close to it too. But he has an image to uphold, especially since his father is quite literally beaming with pride right next to him. He’s about to quip back with a proper response when all too suddenly, Kyungsoo makes a loud wail that startles everybody in the throne room.

With hands over the hilt of their swords, everyone faces to the right where the prince is strickenly pointing at; over to the large predator that had just entered the room. A brown sabertooth tiger who, for all intents and purposes, looks like it’s walking down the throne room as if it owns it. This time, Jaehwan actually snickers.

“Ori,” Daniel calls out, stretching his hand out when she comes closer to nuzzle. The sabertooth purrs rather audibly, which isn’t a surprise given her size, right before she saunters and sits next to his feet. Kyungsoo lets out another yelp when they make eye contact.

“Prince Kyungsoo, allow me to introduce to you the other member of our family.” Daniel smiles, his hand going over to pet the feline’s head until it growls at him to stop. “This is my cat, Ori.”

“I-I beg your pardon?” Kyungsoo manages to say, although his voice is now coming out an entire pitch higher than what he was just using seconds ago. “T-that is not a cat. That’s a wild, sabertooth tiger.”

Ori growls, and Kyungsoo yelps again.

“I wouldn’t really call her wild, although she can be. Sometimes. Right Ori?”

This time the hand Daniel tries to pet her with goes inside the animal’s mouth in a chomp. Kyungsoo screams out a sound that surprises the entire room yet again to rigidness.

“Ori, we have guests. Behave yourself.” He flicks a finger on one of her ears, before she opens her mouth again and releases his hand from her jaw. “She’s a little feisty when you pet her.”

“Feisty.” Kyungsoo repeats in the same high-pitched tone. “Well, I must say this is a very... _ interesting _ fact that I was not informed about.”

“Apologies. I don’t usually go about bragging about my animal companions.” Daniel tips his head in a slight bow, if only to take a peek at how his father’s face is reacting. It’s stoic.

“I see. Well, it was very nice to have met your acquaintance Prince Daniel. Your majesty.” He bows to them, taking an obvious step backward. 

“Will you be joining us for lunch, Prince Kyungsoo?” Daniel asks him, although out of politeness more than hopeful want.

“I-I will have to check,” he says, taking two more steps back and eyes never leaving the mammal at Daniel’s feet. “My steward will inform you of my attendance. Thank you.”

It doesn’t take another minute before their guests promptly exit the throne room in a less than grand fashion as compared to their entrance, and the moment they do comes Jaehwan’s bark of laughter that echoes around the hall.

“Jaehwan.” The kingsguard commands, shutting him up.

“Sorry father.” He clears his throat, albeit a few giggles still escaping.

“Well, that went rather well,” the king finally says in a heavy sigh, a hand coming up to rub his temples. “What do you have to say for yourself, Ori? You almost made the poor man piss himself.”

Jaehwan laughs again, the obnoxious, high-pitched sound carrying over to the entire room much to his own father’s dismay. Daniel chuckles along with his lips between his teeth, watching as Ori curls onto her back on the ground while the king rubs her belly.

“You know when I got you as kitten to be a birthday present for my son, I didn’t think you’d end up scaring off all his potential marriage candidates one day you overgrown cat.” The king tells her, fondness lacing his words. Ori purrs at the gesture, a low rumble that vibrates through the floor.

“Prince Kyungsoo was better than the last prince to visit though,” Jaehwan comments finally ceasing his laughter. “The last one practically fled through the doors the moment Ori came in.”

“When’s the next arriving bachelor then, Jisung?” The king asks over to his steward, who seems to have enjoyed the events of today just as much as Jaehwan did.

“Two days, your majesty. From the kingdom of North Westero. The prince has actually requested to have a private lunch with Prince Daniel. At his own expense, of course.”

The king nods in acknowledgment, before finally turning to him. “You hear that son? There’s no escaping meal dates this time. I swear I was at my wit’s end earlier when Kyungsoo wouldn’t stop babbling about himself over breakfast.”

Daniel laughs. “Sorry father.”

When the king nods and sees no further events to address, he claps his hand in finality. “Alright then. We can dismiss.”

Just as the begin to get up though, Jisung raises a hand to stop them. “Ah, before we leave. I have been informed this morning that the palace guards had taken someone in custody from the southern district. They have brought in a criminal, your majesty. I suggest we go over the sentencing now since we are all already here.”

“A criminal?” Daniel’s father frowns a little, sitting back down. “We haven’t had a crime in the kingdom in nearly ten days. Whose bold enough to break the law now?”

“A thief sir,” Jisung answers solemnly, unrolling the parchment he’s holding to read out the statement. “Apparently he has stolen from one of the visiting traders in the southern market yesterday and stabbed the victim in the arm.”

Daniel blinks, a slight rush of panic coursing through his veins. He was just there; the southern market, stealing. It all sounds too familiar and coincidental...but stabbing? It can’t be.

“Alright, since we’re already here. Bring the prisoner in,” the king says, nodding to Jisung before turning to Jaehwan. “Will you please take Ori outside? We wouldn’t want to scare any more people to actually piss on our rugs.”

“Yes, your majesty.” Jaehwan gracefully bows, and to Ori he says, “Let’s go you big oaf.” 

When his best friend and pet cat have left the room, two palace guards now enter from the main door holding between them at the arms the very person that Daniel had feared to see. His heart jolts at the sight when the guards push him forward where he falls to the ground on his knees in a weak thump. His once beautiful blonde hair is now matted with soot and grime that’s probably taken from a night inside one of the jail cells, made more indicative with how red his downcast eyes are and how dirty the same clothes he had on him yesterday look.

“Name?” His father asks, sternness emanating from his presence. A full minute passes, although it feels more like an hour for Daniel. 

“Did you not hear me boy? I asked for your name.” The king repeats, in a much louder and commanding voice.

“Park Jihoon, sir,” he says raspily, which gets him a hard backhanded slap from the guard to his left. Daniel tries not to hold down a fist.

“You are talking to the king you disrespectful thief. You will address him as your majesty.”

Whether Jihoon understood or even heard the guard, he makes no motion to show it.

“Jisung?” The king asks, nodding to him.

“Right. According to the victim who had filed the report, Park Jihoon had stolen quite a fair amount of goods right before he had sabotaged his selling-wagon. When it came down to a scuffle, the boy had pulled out a knife and stabbed the man in the arm.”

“Is there a witness?” Daniel says, unable to keep to himself. Jisung and his father both look to him, sensing his point. 

“There were a few villagers that could attest to seeing him in the area,” Jisung continues, reading from the parchment that was handed to him. “But the scuffle had happened in a remote alley that by the time people took notice, the victim had already been hurt and the perpetrator nowhere to be found.”

It’s a lie. That damn fish trader is lying through his teeth. 

“Nevertheless.” Jisung nods, eyes landing on the boy. “Bodily harm with an apparent intent to kill on top of stealing should be punished. By our laws, that would mean death by hanging.”

That seems to have woken Jihoon up from whatever trance he’s on as he raises his voice and faces up to all of them. “I didn’t hurt anyone!” He yells, voice rough and frantic. “Okay, yes, I stole from the man. I admit it. But I didn’t  _ stab  _ him! I don’t even own a fucking knife—”

The guard slaps him again, reprimanding him to watch his words. The only reason Daniel hasn’t stood up yet to put a stop to his barbaric methods is because Jaehwan has returned to stand beside him, asking in whisper of what the hell is going on.

He’s putting an innocent man to death because of his stupidity and foolishness is what’s going on.

“Alright then,” the king speaks again, in that voice Daniel knows to his core as what his father uses when he delivers a hard sentence. “Park Jihoon, due to the crimes you have committed, I hereby sentence you to—”

“Wait.” Daniel’s hand is on his father’s arm, the entire room falling dead silent with all eyes pointing at him. Every pair except for the supposed criminal, who has shrunken back to facing the floor.

“Father. There is no proof of what he did,” he whispers harriedly, willing his voice to stay steady. “Do we really trust the claims of a travelling trader visiting our village over that of our own people?”

It jostles something in his father’s mind, he can see it. But it’s not enough. “Regardless of the claims Daniel, we cannot let a felon go unpunished. Everyone has already worked hard to keep our kingdom free of crime lately and we cannot bend over now to tolerate this.”

“Then give him a different sentence,” he says with hard conviction, voice low enough that only Jaehwan twitches in surprise beside him. “Give him to me. Make him my servant. Let him pay for his crime in servitude.”

“What?” His father frowns. “You’re asking to take in a  _ thief _ to be your servant? What’s gotten into you?”

“I have a feeling that he is wrongly accused, father.”

“A feeling.” The king repeats, shaking his head. “Even if what you’re saying is true, we have no idea what this boy is capable of Daniel. Don’t be absurd—”

“You haven’t even given him a chance yet.” He rushes in, throwing it all on risks. “You haven’t even asked him anything other than his name.”

His father sighs then, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration when he turns to face Jihoon again. 

“What is your profession, Park Jihoon?”

It takes him a while to answer, but Daniel is biting his lip in anticipation; fervently watching for the guard if he makes a motion to slap him again. 

“I don’t have one, your majesty,” Jihoon says quietly, eyes still downcast.

“And what about your parents? Do you have a family?”

He nods, slow and painful-looking. “M-my father. My father’s a tailor.”

The king breathes that in, faces Daniel again with a raised eyebrow.

“He can be my personal servant, father. He can help Sungwoon—and probably even Daehwi.”

“What’s wrong with Sungwoon and Daehwi?” His father whispers back. “They’re more than capable of doing their jobs by themselves.”

“But I haven’t had a servant ever since Hae Rin left the post to care for her mother.” Daniel looks at his father in earnest now, almost pleading. “Please, father.”

The thing about  _ this  _ look is that Daniel has discovered early on that it’s the kind his father absolutely has a hard time saying no to. It has only ever failed him twice in his life, once when he had asked him if he could roam about freely outside the palace walls and explore the villages of their kingdom; and the other when he was just barely a teenager and had asked his father if he could stop being a prince. He doesn’t use it too much to his advantage but Daniel is definitely not beyond to resorting to it when he deems it necessary.

When his father sighs and just ever so slightly sinks back into his throne, he knows he’s won. 

“Park Jihoon. You will face me when I speak to you.” 

There’s no movement whatsoever, until the left guard yanks at Jihoon’s hair and forces him to look up. Daniel swears silently that this person will definitely be losing a job come nightfall

“Due to the crimes you have committed, and in light of some hard-pressed counsel from my son—” The king faces him, and Daniel tries very hard not to look smug. “—I hereby sentence you to a lifetime of servitude, under Prince Daniel of the kingdom of Maroowen.”

The shock that reverberates around the room is palpable. The guard holding Jihoon’s head releases him as if he had just touched hot magma, Jisung and the Kingsguard turn their heads so fast at the king that it’s a wonder they didn’t fall from whiplash, and Jihoon himself looks stock with wide eyes and disbelief. 

“You are to follow your prince’s every command, every whim, no matter the... _ absurdity _ of his requests,” the king says in finality. “He has given your life mercy, Park Jihoon. So serve him well." The kong nods in finality, making a gesture with his right hand. "Guards, unbound him and take him to the Chamberlain. Inform him of his sentence.”

“Yes, sire.” 

The guards bow at them and as they raise Jihoon back to his feet, evidently gentler than how they had been treating him seconds peior. There’s a split second in the time between getting up and being ushered out where Daniel finally meets eyes with the prisoner; he can’t read him, and he only still sees the same expression of shock even as he’s forcibly turned around to finally exit the throne room. For the first time in the past few minutes, Daniel lets out a breath he didn’t even know he had been holding.

“You’re accountable for him, Daniel.” He hears his father say from beside him, calling his attention again. “Whatever it is that you’re thinking, know that whatever this boy does from now on is all on you. Remember that.”

There’s a slight ominous air to his tone, but honestly Daniel is just happy that he didn’t get anyone killed today. So he nods at his father before they both rise from their thrones and exit the room as well.

It’s not until Daniel has steered to the halls away from the rest of his father’s entourage that Jaehwan pulls hard at his arm, stopping him in his tracks in an expected display of suspicion.

“What was that?” Jaehwan whisper-asks, his usual lighthearted expression replaced by stark seriousness.

“What was what?”

“Do not play dumb with me now, Daniel.” He warns, voice even and terrifyingly stable. “You know that boy, don’t you.”

It sounds more like a statement than a question, and the second of hesitation it takes for him to provide an automatic response is all the answer that Jaehwan’s brain needs.

“Oh God. What the hell did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Really? The sun hasn’t even set yet since you got back from your little adventure at the southern villages yesterday and now this boy shows up in the castle a  _ prisoner _ ?” He says incredulously, head shaking in disbelief. “Who, might I add, was almost sentenced to death had it not been for your rather diligent persuasion on your father.”

There’s really no escaping this, especially not with his best friend so he might as well just come clean.

“I met him. Yesterday. And yes, he did steal from a trader but he did it for me.”

“What?!”

“It’s not what you think!” Daniel shushes him, shoulders bent forward. 

“You asked a boy to steal for you?!”

“No!”

“ _ And _ got him arrested,  _ and _ sentenced to become your personal servant for life??”

“Jaehwan, please!” Daniel places both hands on his friend’s arms then, keeping him still. “He was only trying to help me yesterday, and I’m only trying to help him now. I’ll fix this. Don’t worry.”

He lets go when it looks like his best friend has finally calmed down a bit, but Daniel still keeps his eyes on him, waiting for a reaction. All Jaehwan does though is let out a breath, heavy with exasperation.

“You’re  _ really _ stupid sometimes. You know that, right?”

“I’ll fix this,” Daniel says it again. He only gets an eye roll.

“You seem to forget that everything you can’t fix always falls on me to handle,” Jaehwan says, running a hand through his perfectly combed hair. “So no, Daniel. You’re not fixing this.  _ We _ are.”


	3. Mystery Master

The castle is enormous and in fact, if Jihoon knew any other word in his vocabulary that felt bigger than the word enormous, he’d use that to describe this place instead. So far he had only seen the dungeons where he had spent the night in when the guards had taken him to await his sentencing, and the throne room where he had met with the king and the prince. The journey to these two locations felt long enough to feel like he had walked to the forest and then back again in his home, a testament to the largeness of the royal abode.

He has nothing else to go by though besides the feeling of his legs to judge for him. He hasn’t really been paying that much attention considering he barely got any sleep on the cold, stone cell he was put into last night. And then there’s also the fact that the last meal he had was quite literally almost a day ago when he was with Euigeon. He’s having a hard time believing that it hasn’t even been a full day yet, when his body feels like it has weathered a full week.

For now though, the walking still hasn’t ended and Jihoon swears his legs are about to give in at any given time. They had exited the throne room promptly after the king had dismissed them, only to traverse to more winding hallways and carpeted staircases. He’s all but tuned out the blabbering of the two guards flanking his sides on their commentary about his supposed escape from death because at the moment, Jihoon really couldn’t care less about what they think and frankly just doesn’t know how to feel about anything that has happened when all he wants right now is something to fill his empty stomach.

“Lord Sungwoon!”

Finally they stop walking, and if it weren’t for hand gripping his arm he believes he might just fall to his knees again. They stand in front of another person with clothes that look like the type his father always makes, worn by a young looking man who looks so regal and yet so short all at the same time.

“Yes?” Comes his response to the guards, and his high-pitched voice is even more mismatched to his outward appearance. 

“The king has instructed us to bring this boy to you.” One of them answers; the more whiny one that kept slapping him back at the throne room earlier. “He’s a criminal who got caught stealing yesterday out in the villages, and he has just been sentenced to be Prince Daniel’s servant.”

The confusion and all-out surprise that flashes through Sungwoon’s face then is something Jihoon completely relates to himself. With the way the guard had just put it, he doesn’t understand how this has all came to happen either.

“O..kay?” Sungwoon says with a slight frown, eyes finally doing a once over on Jihoon’s haggard condition. 

“We’ll leave him to you then, my lord,” the other guard says before they bow out of the scene and walk back down the winding halls.

With only the two of them left, Sungwoon merely stares at Jihoon in a sort of way that reminds him of how animals he hasn’t met yet reacts to his presence when they first encounter him in the forest. The initial gaze of confusion and wonder, right before curiosity kicks in and begins to formulate unspoken questions inside the mind. Sungwoon even tops it all off by having his arms crossed and one of his hands stuck on his chin, staring quite blankly.

“Ah, my apologies. I seem to have forgotten my manners,” he suddenly says shaking out of his trance. “My name is Ha Sungwoon, appointed Chamberlain of Maroowen Castle.”

The smile he gives is warm and inviting, one that Jihoon doesn’t too eagerly return.

“I-I’m Park Jihoon,” he answers in introduction, however feeble and lacking it sounds as compared to this other man’s own title which he has no clue as to the meaning. What’s a Chamberlain?

“Ah, he talks! A pleasure to meet you Jihoon.” Sungwoon says before extending his hand forward that, quite humiliatingly, Jihoon actually flinches at. It doesn’t go unnoticed, and immediately the warm smile turns into a concerned one.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to startle you,” Sungwoon says, sounding a little worried.

“S-sorry...I’m just—” Jihoon doesn’t even know how to finish that sentence without sounding like a pathetic fool. He bites his lips, feeling in his tongue how dry and chapped it’s gotten.

“It’s alright. You must’ve had quite a day, I presume.”

Jihoon sighs, following a snort over at the irony of that statement. “You could say that.”

Sungwoon nods and looks to be about to put a hand on Jihoon’s shoulder but stops himself at the last moment. “Well, it would appear that we’ve both been thrown into a situation that’s lacking any sort of knowledgeable foundation. I will have to consult with a few people first but for now, would you please follow me?”

Jihoon internally groans at the prospect of more walking, but he nods all the same and does as he’s asked. Thankfully though, Sungwoon seems to be more sure of his destination and towards a much shorter one as compared to the two guards earlier; when it’s only at a turn and one descent into a stairwell that they stop in their tracks. Sungwoon opens the door they’re held at, a strong waft of aromas easily hitting his senses

“Through here,” he says, leading Jihoon into the room. He almost faints from the wave of euphoria the moment he steps inside.

The smells of freshly baked bread and boiling broth intermingling in the air is one thing, but seeing the golden brown loaves and rolls on wicker baskets and linen-covered table tops almost has him fainting from the sensory overload. He makes sure to chomp his mouth closed, lest he wants a wayward drool to drip from its corners without his consent and make him look more like a scraggle peasant. He definitely doesn’t want to embarrass himself any further.

“Jinyoung!” Sungwoon calls from beside him, to one of the boys that are scurrying around the kitchen and carrying doughs of unbaked pastries.

“Oh! Lord Sungwoon!”

“Ya! I told you, just Sungwoon is fine.” He smiles, patting the arm of the lanky boy that makes their way to them. His dark, medium-length hair is tied in a bun at the back of his head. “Jinyoung, this is Jihoon. He’s new here and has just been appointed as Prince Daniel’s servant.”

Lanky pastry boy—Jinyoung—faces him then, with a big smile and wide, bright eyes forming on his small face. “Hello Jihoon, it’s nice to meet you. I’d shake your hand but, I’m kinda floured right now. I’m Bae Jinyoung.”

Jihoon returns his smile, dipping his head low in a slight bow. It seems to fluster the guy so much that his cheeks start to color profusely

“Can I leave him under your care for a while Jinyoung? I have to make a few preparations first, and with Jihoon being new in the castle and all—

“Ah, say no more. I’ll take care of him.” 

“Great. Thank you.” Sungwoon nods, before turning to Jihoon again. “You just stay put and eat as much as you want here, alright? Jinyoung will help. I’ll come back for you a little later after I’ve finished settling things.”

“Okay,” Jihoon says, bowing low to him too. “Thank you, sir.”

“Aish! Please, just call me Sungwoon you damn kids!” He laughs, shaking his head in fondness. “I’ll see you two later.”

When the door to the kitchen closes behind Sungwoon, Jinyoung then gestures for him to go over to the side of the kitchen that’s juxtapositioned and at a distance away from the cooking heat. There’s a wooden dining table in the center and windows that let in the afternoon sunlight; comfortable-looking dining chairs line the sides and even a vase of flowers on the center. Compared to what he’s seen in the castle so far, this space is probably the coziest one of all.

“So, Jihoon. Any particular bread you’d like to have?” Jinyoung asks him as he takes a seat, the kindness in his words as warm as the oven he works on.

“Oh. Anything is fine, thank you.”

“Alright. I’ll get you some mutton soup to go with it too.”

“Oh, umm—I’m sorry. I don’t...actually eat meat.”

Jinyoung seems unfazed by this, merely nods in understanding. “Potato soup it is then. I’ll be back in a sec.”

He walks away back to general area of the kitchen, but all Jihoon can fixate on now is the last thing he had mentioned—potato soup. That was the last meal he had back home too, he remembers; for breakfast right before he left the house to head to the market square to buy his book. Everything that had happened since then came at him so fast and so unexpected that he’s only ever really beginning to process the situation he’s in. Now that he’s had time to breathe and sit down comfortably by himself, he fittingly finds his thoughts drifting to his father.

The last look he saw on him is still ingrained in his memory, and he now wonders what he’s probably doing right now or what he thinks of all that’s happened. Does his father think he really committed the crime he was accused of? Is he ashamed of him? Disappointed? Worried?

“Jihoon?”

He snaps back to where he is, looking up to find Jinyoung with a tray of the food he had mentioned. In his current state, it’s not that hard to shift his focus on what his body needs, and the smell of the meal in front of him makes sure that whatever emotional thoughts that are stirring up inside his mind are deftly pushed to the back of his head.

“This is all for me?” He asks, a little hesitant to be seeing so much food and yet there doesn’t seem to be a price to it. It’s too good to be true.

“We cook food all day long for the entire household of the palace.” Jinyoung assures him, jerking his thumb back to where it all happens. “And from what Sungwoon said, you’re part of the household now so, yes. This is all for you.”

It’s ludicrous but the first instinct he has going for him is to cry because never in his life has he ever been served so much food in one sitting. He holds back the tears though, and just mutters a weak thanks.

“If you still want more, just call and ask okay?” Jinyoung tells him, the same inviting tone present in his words. “I have to get back to work, but I’ll just be over there if you need anything.”

Jihoon's jaw almost drops. All this food  _ and  _ more. Sungwoon wasn’t kidding when he mentioned that he could eat as much as he wants. He can’t even begin to process this. “Thank you. Thank you, Jinyoung.”

The lanky pastry boy beams at that, chuckling at the expression he’s making. “No problem. Now eat up! Your soup will get cold.”

“Yes, of course.” Jihoon doesn’t need to be told twice.

  
  
  
  
  


“So I’ve spoken to the king’s steward regarding the details of your...well—for lack of a better term— _ sentence, _ ” Sungwoon says as they walk the halls much later that day. Jihoon had stayed in the kitchen for much of his time, and he notes that wherever he’s being taken to now is proving to be quite a distance. “And as Chamberlain, it now falls on me to make sure that you actually  _ serve _ your so called punishment. Although there’s no need for you to worry. Being what you’re placed into now is as much of a punishment as being left in the kitchen with all that food in the pantry.”

Sungwoon laughs, and the lightness of the sound does bring a little comfort to Jihoon. Now that his belly if full and his mind is somewhat back in order, his innate curiosity slips out the innocent question he’s been meaning to ask since earlier.

“What’s a Chamberlain?”

The question must not come quite often as Jihoon assumed it to be, when all he gets is a questioning look from Sungwoon.

“I-I’m sorry. Please forget I said—”

“No, no. It’s okay.” He chuckles, the small laugh coming out genuine. “I just haven’t been asked that in a long time. Basically I’m in charge of making sure the palace and its staff are running in order. All the domestic things and such. That’s why you’ll be under my care from now on.”

They take up one more short flight of stairs and turn another hallway before they finally stop in front of one of the wooden doors in this area. Sungwoon pulls out a key from his pocket and unlocks it with an audible click.

“And this will be your quarters.” 

He opens the door to reveal a modest-sized room. There’s not much in the way of interiors, with only a bed, a chest with drawers, and a small writing desk, but at least the place is tidy and clean with a good-sized window that even lets him see the setting of the sun outside. What’s more, the room is definitely much larger than what he’s used to so really, there’s not much else to be said.

“Did you bring any of your belongings with you?” Sungwoon proceeds to ask him, and it’s either in the look Jihoon gives him or maybe just his sudden remembrance that he drops the question and just mutters under his breath, “Oh, right.”

Jihoon doesn’t have much material belongings anyway, so it’s not a total loss that he’s being made to live at the bare minimum. Although he does wish he could have a change of clothes, because that’s at least something he never runs out of back at home.

“I’ll give you an official tour of the palace and a run down on your day to day tasks starting tomorrow,” Sungwoon says in explanation. “For now though you can take your rest and just settle in. Oh, and I’ve already asked Daehwi to fill your chest with clothes so if you would like to wash up, you can go ahead and use any of the available bath rooms in this hall.”

“Thank you,” Jihoon nods, although a questioning look present in his face. “Umm—may I know who Daehwi is?”

Sungwoon seems to also only remember that he’s fairly new and has not been properly acquainted to anyone outside the kitchen. “Right. Daehwi is Master of Wardrobe. I’ll introduce you to him tomorrow, along with everyone else you should be knowing.”

“How many people are here in the castle?” Jihoon asks on instinctive curiosity, immediately regretting for talking out of line. “I mean—sorry, I—”

“It’s okay.” Sungwoon just chuckles at him, waving a dismissive hand. “No need to be so formal Jihoon. You’ll learn, especially under Prince Daniel, that around here we only ever use formalities and titles when there are guests over. And as for your question, there are only around forty people who reside in the castle. Most of the other staff only report during the day, and the palace guards just make rounds and shifts.”

“I see.” Jihoon has never really learned any of this in the books that he’s had a chance to read, and honestly it’s all very fascinating to him. He starts to take in his new surroundings again, and only notices that Sungwoon hasn’t left yet.

“Can I ask you something? If you don’t mind,” the Chamberlain says, his arms crossed in front of his chest. He continues when Jihoon nods. 

“Did you really stab that man you stole from?”

His heart plummets at the inquisition, and he opens his mouth to empty words on his tongue. Sungwoon’s face is a blank slate, a stark contrast from the expressions he’s been putting on display as of late. Jihoon’s just honestly afraid of another person disbelieving his words again.

“No. No I didn’t,” he says, looking him straight in the eye and shaking his head; hoping his honesty is felt. “I would never hurt anyone. I don’t even know how to fight with a knife.”

Sungwoon regards him at that, but in a way that no one has before. For all that he’s gone through since getting arrested in front of his own home, the looks people have given him whenever he tried to explain himself was always the kind of condescending. The Chamberlain on the other hand is more tactical, as if he’s trying to find the lie in the truth.

“Okay. Thank you for being honest with me. I believe you.”

Jihoon blinks, never having expected those words to come for him. “Y-you do?”

The smile is back, coupled with a small chuckle when Sungwoon says, “You don’t have the look of someone who has stabbed another person’s flesh. Trust me. I would know.”

Jihoon wants to clarify on that, ask what that means. But he keeps his place and his mouth shut for now.

“But you still are a thief,” Sungwoon continues, his face only dropping a smidge. “And forgive me for being frank but whatever your reasons may be, I am not too comfortable with that idea myself.”

That’s something Jihoon thinks he has no way of explaining. He can’t even really blame anyone else for what happened. It was his decision to do what he did and he knows his mistake.

“Nevertheless, the king—and most especially the p rince—seem to have placed their trust on you wholeheartedly. I can’t say the same for myself at the moment but, I’m not one to rob a person of a second chance.”

Jihoon looks up at him then, meets his eyes that hold nothing but understanding. For the first time in what already feels like a long time, he relaxes with the thought that not everyone thinks he’s a bad person.

“Don’t spend too much time worrying and thinking about it. What’s done is done. We just have to learn from our mistakes and strive to be better than the person we were yesterday,” Sungwoon says warmly. “Now go get some rest. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.”

“Sungwoon.” Jihoon calls to him right as he’s about to exit his doorway. He purses his lips, tips his head in a low bow and says, “Thank you.”

He gets a smile in return, and a small bow back. And then the door closes behind him and he’s left alone. It’s been a heck of a day, and after washing up and putting on a change of clothes, slumber doesn’t wait that much longer to take Jihoon in its arms in a dreamless sleep.

  
  
  
  
  


***

  
  
  
  
  


Maroowen Castle is beautiful. As big as it it and regardless of how small the walls and hallways make him feel, there’s no denying it of its regal charm. With a rested mind and hands that aren’t bound in skin-prickling twine, Jihoon now has the mental capacity to observe and admire his surroundings as Sungwoon takes him for a walk in and around the royal home. 

He marvels at the intricacies of the architecture in and around the huge abode. From the huge, ornate wall reliefs and carvings inside the large dining rooms, to the craftsmanship and tiny details in even the most obscure hallways. What had previously felt like cold, stone walls that encased him like the dungeon did now reveals to his eyes that the stone is actually made of marbles and granites; polished enough to allow the sunlight that passes through the floor-to-ceiling latticed windows to shine brightly on its surfaces.

And the beauty doesn’t stop there, for the grandness of the architecture goes hand in hand with the embellishments that decorate it in earnest. Jihoon has lived with his father long enough to know the effort that goes into the art of sewing. He has seen him work tirelessly and passionately on crafting fine and eye-striking details on cloth for him to find appreciation in any similar craft. Such is the case with the tapestries that hang along the walls in one of the sitting rooms, the rugs that run along the bigger staircases off on the main hallways, and the runners that adorn tables and upholstered chairs that match the curtains placed beside them.

Jihoon has never been one to dream about castles and princes and the riches of royalty, but standing and walking through the home of one now is making him understand why other people are so enamored in the romantics of it.

It’s breathtaking.

“And over here is the courtyard.” Sungwoon explains to him when they finally finish going over the common areas of the interior and have finally stepped outside. “I assume you will probably be spending a lot of time here. Prince Daniel has a keen interest in swordsmanship, you see, and he’s very fond of practicing it out here.”

Jihoon can see that. There’s a particular spot in the courtyard of which the masoned floor looks much more worn-down the rest . He can see the run of the stone and the skid marks that could only have been polished to smoothness by way of boots constantly dragging over its surface; the scratches and lacerations that only a dull blade could procure on the stone.

“Sungwoon!”

They both turn to the voice behind them, where a young man with jet-black hair that’s combed and parted to one side approaches them. Jihoon notes that the man is dressed much rather like how Sungwoon is, except his tunics are much darker in color and there’s the obvious difference of a sash around his waist that holds a sheath that protrudes the unmistakable hilt of a sword. 

“Ah, good timing! Jihoon, allow me to introduce to you Ser Jaehwan of the Black Knights,” Sungwoon says rather proudly, gesturing to the young man. “He is the son of the esteemed Kingsguard, and is the appointed knight in charge of safeguarding Prince Daniel.”

“Keeping the prince out of trouble is what he means,” Jaehwan says with a roll of his eyes before he extends a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Jihoon. I must say, you look a whole lot better than the last time I saw you.”

Jihoon shakes his hand in earnest and proceeds to blink in confusion, much to the other man’s amusement.

“I was at your hearing at the throne room yesterday.” He explains with a lighthearted laugh, gesturing to his clothes. “The clothes look well on you.”

“Well of course they look  _ well  _ on him.” Another voice joins in from the left, and they all turn to greet the newcomer in their little exchange. Besides Sungwoon and Jaehwan, Jihoon hasn’t seen anyone of high position yet that the contrast this new person gives in terms of visual disparity is quite astounding. 

Where Jaehwan and Sungwoon are dressed in similar dark shades of not more than two layers of tunics, this person is adorned in striking shades of pinks and yellows, complete with a slimming overcoat that flows all the way down to his knees. Jihoon doesn’t have to put in a lot of effort to deduce who this person is.

“Daehwi?” He says, immediately biting his tongue and thinking whether he should’ve put a titular prefix to his name or not. Thankfully, the young man merely smiles.

“I see my reputation precedes me,” he says rather proudly, holding out a hand to shake. “You must be Jihoon then. I’m glad the clothes I picked for you suit you well. Quite a challenge since the only thing Sungwoon has told me to go by is that you had perfectly blonde hair.”

“Ah, umm—” Jihoon looks down in bashfulness. It isn’t the first time people have commented on his appearance, but it feels awfully different coming from someone of higher stature as compared to the usual old ladies and stanleys at their local tavern. “Thank you, for providing these for me. I shall wear them well,” he says with a low bow.

“I like him already,” Daehwi says, beaming with a smile before turning back to Sungwoon. “Anyway, I came here to tell you that the next fish swimming our way has changed his initial proposal.” Daehwi drags, rolling his eyes. “Instead of lunch, he wants to have dinner with Daniel instead.”

“What?” Sungwoon frowns, the same exasperation running through his features.

“Tell me about it.” Daehwi wines. “I’ve already picked out Daniel’s clothes  _ specifically _ for noon-time sunlight and now I have to run it through again for an evening set up.”

“I’ll have to inform the kitchen. My apologies Jihoon, but it looks like I’ll have to cut our time a bit short for now. There’s a bit of work to be done.”

“Oh, no problem. I’ll just, umm—” Jihoon comes up blank. What  _ is _ he supposed to be doing anyway?

“I’ll take him from your hands,” Jaehwan says with a coy smile, stepping in to stand beside him. “Who better than to prepare the prince’s servant than the prince’s guard himself, am I right?”

For some reason unbeknownst to him, Sungwoon and Daehwi simultaneously give Jaehwan similar looks of—he thinks it’s skepticism—before they each chuckle out a light breath. Sungwoon nods though, consenting.

“Alright. Jihoon, just know that whatever comes out of Jaehwan’s mouth is always only half the truth no matter how well he spins his words.”

“And when he starts to take you to the winery, turn on your tail and  _ run.”  _ Daehwi pipes in, laughing when he does.

“Hey, I am an esteemed knight and I will not tolerate this kind of disparagement against me,” Jaehwan says with a smile, hanging an arm across Jihoon’s shoulder and pulling him to his side. “Let’s go Jihoon. Leave these two to their insulting ways.”

“Remember what we said Jihoon! Don’t fall for his traps!” He hears Daehwi say as they turn and head back inside the palace. For the first time in since who knows when, Jihoon actually lets out a laugh as he waves to the people behind him.

  
  
  
  
  


As it turns out, spending the rest of the afternoon with Jaehwan didn’t turn out to be as bad as Daehwi and Sungwoon had made it out to be. He’s heard about the Black Knights even back in his village, and Woojin has told him stories of them from what he’s learned at the academy. A collection of ten knights hand-picked by the king, excelling at the very top of their game in every aspect of knighthood and chivalry.

The youngest member, as he comes to know, is kind, smart, and humorously funny. The best thing about him, Jihoon thinks, is that even despite the fact that he had been in the very same room where he was presented as a dangerous criminal, Jaehwan bore no ill-will against him even to the point that he never even once mentioned of the incidents at the throne room at all. 

He can very well conclude that his afternoon had all been spent in good nature, but the best part about spending as much time as he did with the knight lies in what Jihoon has learned from him. He was able to casually ask about how security in the palace works, the rounds that the palace guards make to ensure the safety of those who dwell here. He was able to find out the rough estimate on the number of guards around the palace, that there’s this particular personnel who had a terrible habit of sleeping on the job that is stationed near one of the rear exits of the castle. Jihoon remembers all this, just as much as the effort he put in to remembering the layout of the castle based on the parts Sungwoon had shown him to today.

Now after the sun has long since set and he’s resting in his private chambers, Jihoon looks out his open window and surveys the area he’s given a vantage of albeit in darkness. His room is much too high from the ground on this part of the castle and the walls too smooth to even be a considerable feat to scale, but from his window he can see where the lanterns are lit on the grounds and spires beyond him; which ones are stationary, and which ones are moving at the hands of a night guard. He saves the mental image of it all in his mind, steps back from the window, and very carefully opens his door and steps out.

The hallway he’s on is only barely lit as he has learned earlier in the day that he is the only occupant residing in this part of the castle. He walks slowly on the balls of his feet, making sure to only touch the carpeted areas to muffle any sound he makes. He takes the route he and Sungwoon had walked on this morning, the one that leads to the main entrance hall but making sure to make a left turn the moment he sees the beginnings of the grand staircase. 

He passes by the marble statue of a cat that stands along the corridor, which he has marked as the way-point for him to turn to another hall that will lead him to the study. There’s no presence of a bright light source inside, indicative of someone not using the room so he enters and makes his way across. And because there’s no presence of light, Jihoon knocks over something heavy with his hip from one of the tables and it falls and echoes a hard thump on the floor.

He freezes, crouching from his spot and holds his breath while pressing his back against the immediate security of the wall he’s hiding in. He counts to ten—to twenty—and only begins to move again when no one seems to have noticed his fumble at the thirtieth mark. 

He reaches the hall that leads to the courtyard then, the ones with the tall windows that open up to the outside world where two guards are stationed at spots without blindness. Jihoon’s already thought of a solution to this though and merely gets down on his stomach and uses his size to his advantage and crawls the length of the hallway, sticking close to the ledge that hides him from sight. It takes a while as the corridor is quite long, but he makes it to the other side without a cinch. He knows he’s near an exit now, but the problem he’s anticipated begins here when he turns to the next hall he’s not familiar with.

Neither Sungwoon nor Jaehwan had taken him here, nor is this in any visible location from the vantage of his bedroom window. But while walking back from the courtyard earlier, he heard a door open inside this hall and with it was the unmistakable sound of a horse’s neigh. Jihoon is relying on a hunch but there can only be one part in a castle that would hold a horse and that part usually leads to the outside. He just has to figure out which door it is, and judging from the wind coming in from the eaves he thinks it’s—

“What are you doing?”

Jihoon's blood turns to ice, and his breath freezes midway through his air tract. He doesn't even have the mental awareness to discern the strange familiarity in the voice that came from behind him when all he can do at the moment is slowly turn around and think of an excuse as to why he's currently snooping behind a corner in the wall in complete darkness.

The beginnings of the excuse he's formulating all but escapes his mind the moment he sees who it is that has spotted him. Dressed in a single layer of tunic that dips quite low on his chest, revealing the beginnings of a dark tattoo on one side of his torso, is none other than the person he has been tasked to his lifetime of servitude. Jihoon knows this not because of any visual cues—because truth be told he hasn't even seen the prince since his time at the throne room and even  _ then  _ he had not been paying that much attention—but because of the way he carries himself. Even in the darkness, this man stands at quite a height, in a posture that's similar and yet ever so different from the way Sungwoon, Daehwi, and even Jaehwan hold themselves.

This man stands as regal as Sungwoon, wears even his simple sleeping tunic with just as much amour as Daehwi wears his coat, and exudes just as much chivalry as Ser Jaehwan of the black knights. This man can be no other than Prince Daniel.

“I—I was just...umm—

“Come with me,” is all he says before he starts walking the other direction of the hall for which Jihoon came from.

“Now,” he says in a more commanding voice when he notices that hasn’t made any motion to follow. Jihoon’s confidence plummets down his feet and he hangs his head as he does as he’s told.

They pass through the main hallways, taking the main staircase and passing by some of the guards who bow at the prince and give Jihoon confusing looks of surprise. The whole journey is as quiet as the footsteps he’s made since leaving his bed room, but they stop at a hall Jihoon’s never been to before and in front of a set of double wooden doors painted in a shining moonlight-white.

“After you,” the prince says, opening the door for Jihoon to enter. He takes a silent breath before he walks inside and hears the door close behind him.

This room is big. Not as big as some he’s seen today but those were dining halls and studies. This is merely a bed room and yet it could easily be bigger than Jihoon’s entire house itself.

“Care to give me an answer now?” The prince asks as he walks in front of him, crossing his arms. There’s only one source of light in the room and it’s situated behind the prince so Jihoon can’t really make out the face he’s making then.

“I was...umm—looking for—”

“A way out?” The prince supplies for him. Jihoon hangs his head even lower, making a small but perceptive shake in denial.

“What were you looking for then?”

An excuse escapes him again, and similar to before, it’s caused not by his mental failure but by external forces. Jihoon looks up slowly, not at the man standing before him but over to the side of the room that’s surreptitiously shrouded in darkness. He squints. Something moves. And pretty soon he sees the refraction of light bounce back to him in a pair of glass-like eyes.

“You will look at me when I speak to you Ji—”

“Umm...your highness?” Jihoon starts, talking slow and quiet. “Please do not panic, but I think there’s a sabertooth tiger inside your chambers.”

It sounds ridiculous coming out like that, and he only half expects the prince to believe him. But he does, evident in the way he goes rigid with surprise before turning to where Jihoon is currently staring at. The animal has all but revealed herself now, prancing slowly across the marbled floor with her eyes never leaving Jihoon’s. She makes an audible purr, loud enough to be mistaken for a growl but Jihoon knows better.

“Jihoon. Don’t. Move.”

He’s not. Jihoon thinks back to the forest over to the crevice of rocks in the eastern paths that Sorsha and her cubs call home. This isn’t the first time he’s seen a sabertooth tiger, and this one in front of him certainly isn’t even the largest. And Jihoon knows that there are only three things in this world that would make an animal such as this one dangerous for you. One is when they’re hungry, two is when you piss them off, and three is when you wake them from their cat nap. Right now it’s looking more like the latter.

“Jihoon, listen to me. When I count to three, turn around and make a run to the door and close it firmly behind you. You understand?”

Jihoon frowns at the prince’s words. Does he really think he can handle a wild animal with razor-sharp fangs that’s twice the size of his own hand?  _ He’s _ the one who should be afraid.

“Prince Daniel, it’s okay—”

“Jihoon this is not the time. Just listen to what I’m saying.”

None of them haven’t moved yet save for the sabertooth, who is now close enough for the light to hit her and her obviously bared fangs. She’s definitely a lot cleaner than the ones Jihoon’s seen in the woods, but the glint on her teeth doesn’t make her any less of a threat.

“One.”

The prince is starting to count, but Jihoon is already devising a plan to get the both of them out of harm’s way. 

“Two.”

Devising—and Failing. He’s coming up blank. He can’t think of anything.

“Three!”

Instead of running like he’s told, Jihoon grabs a fistful of the prince’s clothes with both hands and yanks him out of the way and behind him to as close to the door as possible. He fervently hopes his chivalry doesn’t come in the form of stupid courage and just makes a run for it, because when the sabertooth pounces and knocks Jihoon to the ground and traps him between her arms, he doesn’t think he’s much help to the prince if he comes to his rescue.

“ORI NO!”

Jihoon has his hand on her head now just before her jaw closes in on his head, and he rubs subtly at the spot just above her eyes. She’s already poised to kill, jaws open and fangs bared and ready to chop his flesh off. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Jihoon whispers, rubbing at the animal’s temple. He feels her anger, her protectiveness. Her curiosity and wonder of the human between her arms and teeth. It’s strange, because why does it feel that  _ he’s _ the intruder here?

“I’m not going to hurt anyone. It’s okay. I’m sorry for waking you up,” he whispers again, and this time the sabertooth finally closes her jaw. She doesn’t rear back though, just proceeds to sniff his face, and before he knows it she’s finally releasing him from her clutches and sitting back to lick her paws.

“Thank you, friend. Sorry for surprising you like that,” Jihoon smiles at her as he pets her fur some more, and he can feel that she’s pretending not to like it but is ulteriorly betrayed anyway when she starts nuzzling into his palm. 

“How the fuck are you doing that?”

He’s forgotten for a second that there’s even another person in the room, and he turns his head back to see the prince on the ground; face blown wide in shock and disbelief and mutely staring at him.

“I, umm—”

“Ori has never let a stranger touch her before. How the fuck are you just casually petting her like that?”

“Ori?” Jihoon frowns at the name. He turns back to the sabertooth, looks her in the eyes and knows from her. The name is ringing a bell inside his head, but it’s only when he looks back again at the prince that it all clicks into place.

With the light now illuminating him a little, Jihoon can see the way his dark-brown hair has fallen over like a curtain on his face and in the quickest of instances, the resemblance is turns uncanny. So uncanny that it’s bordering on  _ impossible _ .

“Euigeon?” He whispers. Seeming to tense the tension in his hands, Ori gets up and saunters back to her bed by the corner of the room. “Y-you’re...Euigeon?”

The prince—or Euigeon, or  _ whoever  _ this person is—just clamps his lips shut and picks himself off the floor. Jihoon follows suit, his eyes never leaving his tall figure. 

“My name is Daniel...but, yes. I’m Euigeon.”

So many thoughts fly in his head all at once, in a barrage that’s even much more stressful than trying to tame a wild sabertooth tiger. Jihoon opens his mouth. Closes it. He opens it again but only a weak whimper comes out in place of words.

“I—I don’t understand,” he breathes out, his hands are shaking. “ _ You’re _ the prince?”

It starting to feel like a nightmare the solidifies into reality, when Daniel nods.

Jihoon can’t wrap his head around it, doesn’t even know  _ how _ to begin to understand it. Euigeon  _ can’t _ be the prince. He’s just a boy from the northern village, who didn’t even have money with him to buy fish for some stray cats and—

It suddenly clicks, and the shaking in Jihoon’s hand now forms into a fist.

“It was you,” he says, so low and directed at the ground that he doesn’t even know nor does he care if he’s heard. “It was you.”

“I can explain.”

“ _ You’re _ the one who put me here.” 

“Jihoon—”

“I told you where my house was!” Jihoon yells, his spit flying. “That fucking fish man came to my house flanked with guards and arrested me the moment after we parted ways! They punched my father and took me to the dungeons! It was you!”

“I didn’t—”

“And now  _ everyone _ is practically telling me that I have  _ you _ to thank that I got out of being hung to death?! That my life was saved by the mercy of the good  _ Prince Daniel?!”  _ Jihoon practically spits the words out, his chest is heaving. “What kind of twisted fuck is this?!”

“Jihoon, please. I didn’t know that—”

“So is this what you do for fun?! Go out of your castle and trick other boys into committing a crime for you then ratting them out?!”

“What? I never ratted you out—”

“Is this how you get  _ all _ your servants then?! You play the hero and have everyone believe that you’re a good guy when  _ you’re _ the one putting their heads on the stake in the first place?!”

“Hey, that’s not fair—”

“Don’t talk to me about fair!”

“I wasn’t the one caught stealing!” Daniel yells louder, in that similar voice from earlier that just drips with command. “ _You_ were the one who stole from that man! _You_ were the one who did the crime! I never asked for your help nor did I ask you to do the crime _for_ me!”

The truth of his words shut him up. And as angry as he feels with this surprising bit of info, Jihoon falls speechless.

“And how dare you say that I’ve been playing you! You may not have stabbed that man Jihoon but do you think  _ anyone _ in that room would believe someone like you?! Do you think you’d actually be alive right now if it wasn’t for me stepping in to tell my father to show you mercy?! Yes. I was involved in what happened, but don’t you dare accuse me of being the bad guy when all I’m doing since the moment they threw you in front of my feet is help you!”

Jihoon shakes his head. He bites his lips and the inside of his cheeks. He can’t believe this is happening. He can’t believe he’s even shedding tears.

“I’m leaving. And if you try to stop me I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” Daniel raises his voice again, crossing his arms over his chest. “Tell everyone that you met me outside the palace? That you only did what you did for me?” He laughs, a humorless one that’s as dark as the unlit parts of his room. “Let me repeat it for you in case you didn’t hear me, Jihoon. Do you really think  _ anyone _ would believe you?”

Daniel comes closer, stands just until their faces are a mare foot from each other. His scowl is menacing, bordering on malicious fright as he continues to whisper in an ominous tone. “Do you know why there’s hasn’t been crime in the kingdom very much as of late? Do you know  _ why  _ Maroowen is considered one of the safest places in this part of the continent?”

Daniel takes another step forward. Jihoon takes one back.

“It’s because my father is ruthless, Jihoon. He is ruthless when he needs to be. If you so much as got caught sniffing around and suspected of trying to escape, you’ll be thrown into the dungeons to rot before you even realize it. If by a miracle you  _ do _ escape the castle and go back to your village, do you really think my father will just leave you alone?”

Another step, and Jihoon feels the knob of the door poking his back.

“No. My father will  _ not _ leave you alone. He will hunt you down. He will go after you, your father, your neighbors, your friends. He will get  _ anyone _ who he thinks has even the smallest of ties with you. And for what? All because you took some fish from a vendor and refused to pay him?” Another dark chuckle, this one runs all the way down his spine. “Okay, go ahead Jihoon. Be my guest. Run away. Escape. See if I care.”

Daniel finally takes a step back, but by no means has the thickness of the air around them lessened. There’s a huge lump at the base of Jihoon’s throat and he can’t breathe—can’t think of anything other than the echo of Daniel’s words in his ears. He looks up at him, at the unwavering scowl before he finally turns around and opens the door to leave the room. 

By some miracle he finds his way back to his chambers in complete and distraught haste, and only then—when he crashes face-flat on his bed with his pillow to muffle his mouth—does he let out a scream, a sob, a wail of desperation for himself. 

For the very first time, Jihoon falls asleep wishing he had just been a good boy. One who didn’t complain to his father for not being allowed to attend the academy. One who took the road head on and just went to buy the book he had planned to that day. One who didn’t fall into the traps of strangers whom he thought needed his help.

He never should’ve played the hero. He should’ve just minded his own business—because not like the bard tales and stories in books, heroes don’t always get to live through happy endings.


	4. A Prisoner's Wish

When Daniel wakes up and opens his eyes the following morning, the first thing he sees in front of him is the steely gaze coming from the eyes of his sabertooth tiger staring back at him from the side of his bed. It’s a good thing, because for some reason he feels a lot more tired than he ought to be considering the length of his slumber and he thinks he really needs the comfort of his cat right now.

“G’morning Ori,” he says lazily before reaching out to pet her head, but Ori just evades him and proceeds to continue her pointed staring. So much for the comfort of animal companionship.

“What? Don’t tell me  _ you’re _ mad at me too.” 

The sabertooth tiger just purrs at him, huffing a breath through her nose before walking away and back to lie on her own bed. 

“Fine. Be that way.” Daniel sighs, rubbing his eyes as and laying flat on his back to stare at the head of his bed canopy. He doesn’t want to get out of the cushions, but today’s a busy day and he has responsibilities and errands to attend to; all at the thought of which just elicits a groan of displeasure. He pulls the covers off of him and gets out of bed before his body sinks any further on his mattress.

He does his morning routine as usual—washing up, fixing his hair, putting on some scented beeswax on his body. It’s all mundane and mindless, but when he moves over to his dresser and stands in front of the mirror to get dressed, he immediately notices what’s different from the commonplace. 

It’s not something too noticeable, nor is it even something to give a second thought about. But having done the same thing every morning for quite some time now has keened his senses into spotting the anomaly. The clothes that are placed on top of his dresser are folded and stacked differently and staring at it now, he knows without a doubt Daehwi hadn’t been the one to bring this here. Not that there’s anything  _ wrong _ with it but it’s just...different.

Still, he puts on the maroon tunic that’s picked for him today and lightly shakes his head to clear away the momentary distraction. It all begins to make sense, however, when he finally opens one of his doors and steps out of his bedchambers only to see another person standing out in the hallway just beside him that isn’t Jaehwan.

Jihoon is just standing there in wait, his hands resting on top of one another in front of him while he stares at the ground with his head hung low. Right. He’s his servant now.

“Jihoon,” he says in greeting. Probably the coldest form of a pleasant morning that’s ever come out of his mouth.

“Your highness,” comes his own cold response, a bow of the head. “Ser Jaehwan told me to tell you that he’s gone ahead to the kitchen already. And that you should hurry over so you can start your meal.”

It feels rather strange; not in the sense that it’s been a while since he’s had someone waiting on him like this, but more on the aspect that it’s Jihoon who’s doing it. He gives him a curt nod which he assumes he probably doesn’t even see what with the way his head is constantly fixated on the ground, and begins to walk along the hall.

It’s not even a good five seconds yet when he feels another bout of strangeness creeping up upon hearing footsteps behind him. Daniel stops walking, looks back over his shoulder to see Jihoon right behind his tail. He frowns.

“You don’t need to follow me.”

The blonde boy blinks, but otherwise keeps his gaze on the floor. “Lord Sungwoon told me to follow you, should you need me.”

“Well I’m telling you now that I  _ don’t _ need you and that you don’t have to follow me around all day,” he says, not meaning for his words to come out so sharp. “Go do something else. Clean my chambers or take Ori for a walk or something. I don’t care.”

He starts walking again. This time his own footsteps are the only things he hears.

  
  
  
  
  


“Finally.” Jaehwan lets out an exasperated sigh the moment he steps into the kitchen, picking up one of the breakfast rolls Jinyoung serves them. Daniel greets them a good morning, taking a seat across his best friend on the small dining table.

“Where’s Jihoon?” Jaehwan asks, looking over at the door from where he came. “I told him he could come join us for breakfast.”

“Since when are you and him friends?” Daniel frowns, a little surprised by the statement. Jaehwan just shrugs.

“I spent the entire afternoon yesterday showing him around the castle and whatnot. Sungwoon was supposed to do it but I took Jihoon from his hands when he and Daehwi had to prepare for the fish that’s coming tonight.”

Daniel narrows his eyes at him, but ultimately ignores anything that has to do with a certain servant and just takes a bite off his roll. “Can we please stop calling every marriage candidate that comes here a fish?”

“Good luck telling them that.” Jaehwan chuckles. “What’s wrong with you anyway? You sound even crankier than usual.”

Daniel thinks about everything that’s happened lately in the hours before and after sleeping. It leaves a sour taste in his mouth, one that almost ruins the bread Jinyoung’s baked for them. “I’m just a little stressed, thinking about tonight,” he says as an excuse which, he tells himself, isn’t entirely untrue. Jaehwan snickers at him.

“Remember the last prince who had asked to have dinner with you? What was that guy’s name? The prince from Xanderforth?”

“I don’t remember his name either,” Daniel admits, shaking his head with a slight shiver. “But what I do remember is how he had practically thrown himself at me much the entire night as if  _ I’m _ part of the menu.”

Jaehwan laughs at that, the high-pitched sound carrying over to the entire kitchen. “Good Gods. I remember how he knelt in front of you just  _ asking  _ for it.”

Daniel feels a coldness creeping up his spine at the mental image of that night, the cringe worsening his already sour appetite. “Please don’t remind me.”

“Well, let’s hope this new prince won’t be as... _ thirsty _ , as that one,” Jaehwan says, shoulders still shaking in glee.

“For once I agree with you Jaehwan.” 

They both look over to their right at the same time then, towards the source of the voice over to where the king, along with Jisung and Sungwoon, are entering through the door. Jaehwan gets up from his seat to bow and so do the rest of the kitchen staff who all but stop what they’re doing. Daniel’s father just raises a hand, gesturing for everyone to resume their business.

“Father.” Daniel nods to him, a hand going on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry son. Sungwoon made sure to get you into a little less  _ intimate _ dining hall from the last. We wouldn’t want people kneeling in front of you for reasons beyond respectable gestures.” The king chuckles along, laughing with Jaehwan.

“Everything is already prepared for, even despite the last-minute change in schedule,” Sungwoon says, sounding proud and frustrated at the same time. “The prince from North Westero is expected to arrive here at just after sunset. Dinner will commence shortly after.”

Daniel notes all of this in his head, nodding to the Chamberlain.

“I just came to remind you not to feel too taxed by this, Daniel,” his father says to him, his hand giving his shoulder a warm squeeze. “I know you hate going on blind dinner dates like this but, try not to dread it too much. Who knows? This man could actually be the one now.”

He understands what his father is saying, even though he doesn’t exactly feel too thrilled with the idea. Still, he doesn’t let his encouragement and optimism fall on deaf ears when he nods.

“Where’s Jihoon?” Sungwoon suddenly asks, looking around the room. “I assumed he’d be here with you.”

Daniel frowns a little at that and goes back to eating his breakfast with a harder than necessary bite of his breakfast roll. Why is everyone hounding him about that boy? “I don’t know. I told him to clean my room and take Ori for a walk.”

“What?!”

Everyone around him exclaims at the same time, and even Jinyoung and some of the kitchen staff are staring at him with wide eyes. His father’s hand on his shoulder is suddenly tense as a coil.

“Are you trying to get the boy killed? What’s the matter with you?” 

“Ori won’t hurt him,” Daniel says in his defense, despite the disbelieving looks he’s getting. “I know it sounds preposterous but for some reason that even I can’t understand, Ori actually likes him.”

No one still seems to be on board with this, and even Jaehwan is openly gaping across from him with his half-chewed bread still in his mouth. Daniel hears his father sigh in exasperation, looks up to see him rubbing at his temples. 

“Jaehwan, after you finish eating can you  _ please _ make sure that the boy is still alive? Sungwoon needs to brief him for the dinner tonight and he can’t do that if he’s suddenly become Ori’s toothpick.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

“Why do we need Jihoon tonight?” Daniel asks, rounding on Sungwoon.

“Ji Soo couldn’t report to the castle today because she’s feeling ill. I’m running short on staff and I need Jihoon to take her place and since he’s technically your personal servant now, who better?” Sungwoon answers, a worried look still on his face.

“That won’t be necessary Sungwoon. I don’t need a servant.”

“Then why did you ask for one in the first place?” His father asks, raising an eyebrow. “If I remember correctly, you had practically begged me to spare that boy’s life and give him to you as your personal servant, and now you’re saying you don’t need one?”

Daniel bites his lip. He has nothing to answer to that.

“He’s just feeling cranky your majesty,” Jaehwan says, coming to his rescue. “Woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

“Well you better get your act together Daniel. This dinner could very well just cost you your life,” his father says sternly, turning around and leaving the room. Daniel just goes back to eating his food, pretending that he doesn’t notice Jaehwan staring at him the whole time.

  
  
  
  
  


The sun sets a lot faster that day than he would have preferred, and it doesn’t take a lot of time before he finds himself sitting at the helm of one of the palace dining rooms. Across from him over at the other end of the table—at a ridiculous distance of about five feet no less—sits his date for tonight. Prince Jongin of North Westero, the youngest in his royal family.

In all honesty, Daniel had already heeded his father’s words and had taken his advice on giving tonight a chance. He had been forcing himself to be optimistic from the moment Prince Jongin had entered their palace and made introductions in the throne room. He had smiled graciously and politely thanked the man for coming all the way to his kingdom just to spend dinner with him.

But Daniel swears to the heavens above, right then at that moment where he sits and smiles in his most practiced efforts, that if he hears the Prince talk about his hair and clothes and accessories for another minute he’s going to pop a nerve.

“This one is a gift from one of my uncles who had traveled to the Kingdom of Alexar in the East. It’s made of gold-infused diamonds that he says is achieved by magic known only to their part of the land. And this button on my cuff here is actually enchanted by the sorceress of Irthendaal on my sixteenth birthday. Oh and have I told you about the time I was given shoes that were made by dwarves?”

“I don’t believe you have,” Daniel says, and he’s long since learned by now that it only takes a few words out of his mouth and even sometimes a wordless nod to get the prince to start talking again. He is practically in awe right now, at how this man can actually be capable of keeping a conversation with himself.

The only time he actually tears his eyes away from pretending to listen to the other prince’s ramblings is when their servers enter the room to bring in the next course in their meals and now, coincidentally, happens to be his personal servant’s turn.

He looks at Jihoon with eyes less in scrutiny and more on astonishment. Daehwi has dressed him rather well tonight, as well as what befits a servant of course, to the point that one would not even be able to tell that the boy is not born of noble blood. As far as appearances go, Jihoon could even take Prince Jongin a run for his money.

But it all stops there, however, because the moment he places the main entrè and the utensils to go with it in front of him, he sees the mistake that only someone born outside nobilities will make. Daniel doesn’t say a word though and just carries on with his meal. Prince Jongin on the other hand, not to his surprise, is not as unvocal about it as he is.

“Ah, excuse me. Boy?” He calls over to Jihoon’s retreating figure, sounding a little embittered probably from being cut off from his tale about his dwarven shoes. “I believe you made a mistake here.”

_ I believe  _ as opposed to  _ I think _ . Daniel inwardly rolls his eyes.

“I-I’m sorry, your highness. What seems to be wrong?” Jihoon stutters weakly.

“You mean you don’t know?” The prince says, chastising and scoffing. He turns to Daniel and he only smiles in disbelief.

“What is our entrèe right now, may I ask?” 

“Entrèe?” Jihoon mutters rather dumbly, his eyes instinctively going over to the food on the plate then back again. “Umm...I’m not sure—”

“It’s meat, is it not? That much is at least obvious to you I presume.”

Jihoon bites his lip. He nods.

“And how, praytell, do you suggest I eat this fine cut of ox meat with—” and the prince laughs, but not in a funny-sounding way, “—a butter knife?”

Jihoon just stares at him and at the knife he had just placed on the table. Daniel watches in mild amusement, how the color rises from Jihoon’s neck to his ears right before he bows low in apology and scurries away to replace his mistake. 

“Honestly,” Prince Jongin says when he’s finally happy with his cutting tool. “It’s really hard to find good help these days. Wouldn’t you agree, Prince Daniel?”

Daniel just smiles, nods once right before the other prince goes back to where he left off on his story about his shoes. 

When they’ve both eaten their fill and the other servants have replaced their drinking glasses with crystal goblets, Jihoon enters the room again carrying a jug of red wine. He goes to Daniel’s side first, and he thanks him after he pours his drink. Jihoon then heads on over toward the other end of the table to do the same.

“You’re supposed to pour the wine on my right, not on the left,” Prince Jongin tells Jihoon off again just as he’s doing the motions. The sudden movement that happens as he switches sides sloshes the liquid he’s holding, however, and a drop manages to land itself on the cuff of Prince Jongin’s immaculate white sleeve.

And of course, he gasps. Loud.

“You imbecile! Look at what you did!” The prince gets up and to Daniel’s surprise,  _ slaps  _ Jihoon right across the face; the sound so strikingly heavy that it echoes around the room.

“Are you handicapped?! Do you even know how much these clothes are worth?!”

Daniel can see Jihoon biting his lips again, his knuckles turning white on the handle of the wine jug. “I’m sorry. Your highness,” he says through barred teeth.

“Apologies won’t fix your idiotic mistakes! I ought to have you—”

“Prince Jongin, let me apologize on his behalf.” Daniel finally speaks up, getting up from his seat as well. “He’s new to the castle and is still under training. I ask for your humblest understanding. And as a token of my remorse, allow me to offer new a new coat to replace yours.”

The other prince looks at him, then back to Jihoon then back to him again. He scoffs, adjusting his tunic overcoat and tipping his chin up.

“The won’t be necessary. Prince Daniel it was very lovely to meet your acquaintance but I believe I must take my leave now.”

He does his best to school his face into an expression of regret, rather than relief. “I understand. Please, allow me to escort you.”

Prince Jongin raises a hand. “Again, that won’t be necessary. Good evening to you, Prince Daniel.”

He walks out, swift and theatrical that all Daniel can do is bow at his retreating figure. When the prince is finally gone, he takes a breath and lets it out heavily in the next second. He runs a hand through his hair, roughing up his combed locks before making his way to where Jihoon is still rooted on the spot. Daniel takes the jug of wine away from him, placing it on the dining table.

“I should thank you,” Daniel starts, voice low and casual. “You just saved me from having to listen to more of that guy’s blabbering. God, that prince could talk.”

Daniel chuckles in an attempt to lighten the mood, but Jihoon just stays where he is and continues to stare into space. No smile in sight. Daniel sighs, putting a hand on the other boy’s shoulder.

“Hey. Don’t let it bother you. You didn’t know any better—”

Jihoon jerks his shoulder away—hard—and begins to direct his fuming gaze at him, eyes like knives. His lip is quivering between his teeth.

“What?” Daniel raises an eyebrow, challenging. “Are you going to blame me again? Tell me it’s  _ my  _ fault you’re clumsy and witless?”

He feels Jihoon’s breath reach his neck, the air strong and heated. 

“I hate you.”

At that, Daniel laughs. A dark and humorless one that’s more sarcastic than anything. “Too bad you’re stuck with me then. Maybe this punishment for you  _ is _ better than dying.”

“Fuck you!”

“You watch your mouth!” Daniel yells over him, using  _ that _ voice. “I am still the prince, Jihoon. And as the prince, you will treat me with respect!”

But of course since this is him he’s talking to, the last thing he does is back down and instead, spits on the table beside them.

“My apologies,  _ your highness.  _ I seem to have lost my language just now,” Jihoon says, his voice trembling just as hard as the fists on his side. “But you should know, that I will  _ die _ first than reach the day I give you even a single ounce of my respect.”

He turns then, exiting in the same way Prince Jongin had with echoing footsteps on the marble floor. Daniel scratches his head in frustration, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself. He sees Jaehwan enter the room not a second later, his face a painting of concern.

“Not now Jaehwan.”

“I’m not going to pretend that I didn’t just hear any of that,” he says, his voice worried and serious. “He knows, doesn’t he?”

Daniel sighs again, pushing his fringes up and nodding. “He thinks I set him up with what happened and he blames me for why he’s here in the first place.”

Jaehwan only nods. “Well, he isn’t wrong.”

“Can you please be on  _ my  _ side for once?”

“But it’s true,” Jaehwan says, giving him a pointed look. “Whether you want to accept it or not, you’re just as much at fault for why he ended up here.”

“I wasn’t the one who was stupid enough to steal  _ and _ get caught!”

“But you didn’t stop him either.” Jaehwan pulls one side of his mouth into a wanton smile, shrugging. “Technically speaking, you’re an accomplice to theft, Daniel. And in our books, that is just as punishable to thieving itself.”

Daniel opens his mouth but, rather unsurprisingly, nothing comes out. He turns around then, starts pacing to avoid having to look at his best friend.

“Look. What’s done is done and there’s no changing it.” Jaehwan continues, tone soft and consoling. “But would it kill you to at least be nice to him? Imagine what he must be feeling right now, Daniel. He got arrested in front of his own home—in front of his father, no less—not even three days ago. He’s thrown into a world he barely understands and the one person who’s supposed to get him the most is turning out to be a real horse’s arse.”

Daniel stops his pacing and turns to give him a look, but he thinks the one Jaehwan has on is one he can’t match.

“Sungwoon, Daehwi, and even I have been speaking highly of you to him. Telling him that being your personal servant is probably one of the best jobs here in the palace,” Jaehwan says, with a crack of a small smile. “But those are just words, Daniel. It’s up to you to uphold that in your name.”

When he’s done speaking, Jaehwan follows in the theatrics of the last two people and exits the room as well, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He lets the words of his best friend sink in, tries to put himself in Jihoon’s shoes. He thinks about three days ago when he first met him, outside the palace and how easy it had been to talk to him. Jihoon even bought him lunch, didn’t judge him at all for wanting to feed a couple of stray cats, and defended him when someone was tarnishing his name.

All too suddenly he feels something a lot more sour than anger covering the palate of his mouth when he thinks about what he did—or rather didn’t do—when Jihoon was the one being bullied by the prince earlier. 

He runs a hand through his hair again, closing his eyes for a few seconds and reminding himself of the kind of prince he wants to be—while simultaneously reflecting on the kind of prince he’s being right now.

  
  
  
  
  


Daniel raps his knuckle softly on the wooden door three times and takes one small step back to wait. He hears the kind of sound that one only actually notices when it’s suddenly not there anymore, which in this case is the silent and faint sniffling of breath on the other side of the wall. It doesn't surprise him in the least when the door finally opens and he sees Jihoon’s eyes puffy and red. The sentiment isn't shared though, when he looks at Daniel as if he's been visited by a night ghost.

“Can I help you?” He asks, and even his voice remains thick with lingering emotion. Daniel tries not to let it affect him too much, nodding to his quarters.

“May I come in?”

Jihoon frowns, eyes narrowing. “Why?”

“I just want to talk.”

“You’re talking to me right now.”

“Jihoon.” Daniel bites his lips, reminding himself not to resort to using his title for command despite it proving really difficult. “Please.”

A few silent seconds pass between them that’s only filled with a lot of staring, but Jihoon eventually takes a step backward and to the side to let him in, closing the door when he enters.

Daniel takes in his room for the first time, eyes glancing over to the few pieces of furniture occupying the space. He’s a little ashamed to admit it even to himself, but he thinks he’s probably never stepped foot here his whole life. It’s small, but not tiny; liveable but completely barren.

“Are you sleeping well here?” Daniel wonders aloud, only vaguely realizing that his thoughts have formed into words.

“Is that what you came here to talk to me about? To ask if I’m sleeping well?”

The animosity in his voice is ever present, and Daniel reminds himself that he's partly to blame for why that's even the case when he feels a surge of annoyance hit him. He turns around, faces him square on when he says,

“I wanted to apologize, Jihoon.”

The statement catches the blonde off-guard, evident in the way his eyes lose their sharpness and the way lips pop open slightly to form a subtle  _ o _ . He blinks at Daniel, who all but uses the advantage of his silence to continue.

“You’re angry, and resentful. You think it’s completely unfair that you’re forced to be here and you feel alone and untrusting of everyone because you think they’re all out waiting to do something against you,” he says sternly, facing the brunt of Jihoon’s growing frown. “Worst of all, you feel betrayed...when the person whom you thought was your friend turned out to be this monumental jerk in prince's clothing"

He can see Jihoon’s frown slowly falling from his face, his eyes casting clear reflections from the light of the single oil lamp in his room. He's listening at least, a comfort in itself.

“You have every right to feel the way you’re feeling,” Daniel continues in his silence, nodding to him in earnest. “And I should’ve been more understanding of that instead of imposing you to feel differently. Because you were right, Jihoon. I’m just as much at fault as to why you ended up here in the first place and...I’m really sorry. I hope you can find it in you to forgive me.”

He tips his head in a low bow then, hoping that the gesture expresses his sincerity. When he faces up again, his frown from earlier is all but gone from his features, replaced by a small mix of surprise and hesitation.

“How do I know you’re not just lying to me again,” Jihoon says, his voice deep with doubt. Daniel understands though, pulling his lips taut in a shameful smile.

“The only thing I lied to you about when we met outside the castle was my name,” he says with a small shrug. “The person you talked to, the one you spent time with that day—that’s as me as I’ll ever be. I didn’t lie about any of that Jihoon, and I’m not lying when I say that I enjoyed being your friend...which I’m hoping we can still be.”

Jihoon just continues to stare at him for a long while, eyes steady with scrutiny. Daniel’s a little afraid if he’s asked too much considering their current situation, and although he tells himself that he would understand it completely if Jihoon were to say no, he finds himself still hoping otherwise. When he finally breaks his gaze and softens his face into a more easy expression, the next thing that comes out of his mouth comes as a slight surprise.

“I’m sorry too,” Jihoon says, his head nodding with his words. “You were only trying to help, and all I showed in return was bitter ungratefulness. I guess I was just looking for someone else to blame other than myself and...when I found out who you were, I just couldn’t stop myself." He scratches the top of his head in a slight pause, ruffling the strands of his blonde locks. "I’m sorry for behaving the way I did, and for saying all that stuff about you. That wasn’t fair of me...I should know better than anyone what it’s like to be accused of something you didn’t do.”

Daniel takes his words in before nodding in acceptance. And just to try and show that he harbours no ill will, he extends a hand in a gesture of truce. Jihoon merely looks at it for a second, but unhesitatingly takes it with a smile in the next.

“And to answer your question,” Jihoon says lightly, finally cutting a bit of the tension that’s formed. “I’m sleeping rather well here...despite everything.” He gestures around the room, shrugging. “It’s probably not that much to you but this is quite the luxury as compared to my room back in my father’s house.”

Daniel chuckles at that, but the sudden change in expression on Jihoon’s face at the mention of his father is something that doesn’t fly past him. The way the corners of his mouth turn down a little in time with the dip his brows form. The way his eyes are all too suddenly that much more reflective as compared to a few seconds ago. He remembers what Jaehwan told him then, of how Jihoon had been arrested in front of his own home that probably happened not that much later after they had said their goodbyes that day.

“Are you turning in for the night?” Daniel finds himself asking, his thoughts leaping bounds ahead of him and formulating a plan. When Jihoon doesn’t answer right away he says, “If you’re not feeling tired yet, I want to ask you to follow me.”

Jihoon frowns in confusion. “To where?”

But Daniel is already solid in his decision, confidence dripping from his voice when he answers.

“Outside. To go see your father.”

  
  
  
  
  


Suffice to say, it doesn’t take that much time for either of them to head to Daniel’s chambers, grab a pair of black, hooded cloaks that he keeps inside his personal wardrobe, and head for one of the unguarded escape routes he uses whenever he sneaks out of the palace. It’s the same exit he had used three days ago, the one that opens up to an underground tunnel that leads them outside the castle walls.

“So you just snuck out that day?” Jihoon asks him as they now start walking along the alleys of the northern village. “I thought you were just wearing this getup to hide your identity.”

“Well, there’s that. But there’s also the fact that I’m not exactly allowed to leave the castle,” Daniel tells him, his legs dashing briskly on the pavement.

“But you’re the prince,” Jihoon says matter-of-factly, whispering as quiet as their footsteps. “I thought that meant you could do anything you wanted.”

Daniel chuckles at that, a lot darker than he intended. “Not everything.”

“Why?” 

The question comes out so curious that Daniel actually glances to his side to look at Jihoon’s face when he asks. He purses his lips when all he sees is pure innocence, facing front again when he answers.

“There are...risks. Ones that my father would rather not have me take,” is all he says. And he’s not sure whether it’s the tone of voice he just used or if the answer was actually sufficient enough, because Jihoon doesn’t say much else or ask further.

Maroowen is a modest sized kingdom, but it’s still a long way by foot to get from the castle all the way to the southern village; much less the part that already borders the kingdom gates. The moon is nearing its peak up on the starless sky when they finally make it, quite a long journey that’s barely apparent when Daniel sees Jihoon walking faster and ahead of him the further they enter into streets that are familiar to him. It takes no time at all when he’s the one leading their trail now, until they finally reach the street past the main ones that only have two houses in the vicinity. 

Jihoon stops in his tracks and Daniel comes to stand beside him to stare at the structure with the blue roof. It doesn’t look that much but it’s a lot smaller than what Daniel had imagined. There’s light coming in from inside one of the windows, and he turns a little to his side to see Jihoon staring at that particular spot as well. 

“He’s still working,” he says, his voice at its lowest and almost wavering at the edges, holding barely contained tears. “It’s close to midnight and he’s still working.”

From what Daniel can tell, it’s probably not an odd occurrence judging from how Jihoon says it. He nods, stepping back a little. “Go. Take as much time as you want. I’ll wait for you by the corner of your street,” he says, and maybe it’s rather unwise to leave Jihoon to his devices and him to be completely out in the open, but the tearful look he gets in return is enough to make him stand by his decision. Jihoon nods, not taking another second before he heads to the front door of his house.

Daniel watches for a while, looks at the silhouettes on the window where the light is coming from and watches in fondness when two people crash against each other in a strong embrace. He smiles to himself, relishing the warmth he feels spreading from his chest and taking a breath before walking back around the bend.

No one comes to bother him at least, and there’s only one patrolling guard that passes near the street once. He wasn’t even near enough or even that much attentive that Daniel’s dark cloak does the job of hiding him well enough alone. By the time he hears footsteps coming from behind him, the moon is high in the sky and slowly moving towards the direction it’s supposed to set in.

“Ready to go?” He asks as he turns, but ends up getting much more than what he expects when he sees that Jihoon isn’t alone. Another man with dark hair and simple clothes who almost looks to be the same age as his own father stands next to him, a small smile on his face.

“Hello,” Jihoon’s father says, and Daniel’s first instinct kicks in and he bows in respect.

“Ah, please, you don’t have to bow to me, your grace.” He feels hands going to his shoulders to raise him from his posture, before the same hands give him a warm squeeze that matches the expression being thrown at him. “I just wanted to meet the man who saved my son’s life. I don’t think I’ll ever get another opportunity to thank the crowned prince himself and in person after tonight.”

Daniel opens his mouth and closes it. He glances at Jihoon who’s off looking at the ground shyly, as if to say this wasn’t his idea.

“I’ll take care of him, sir,” Daniel says, prompting even Jihoon to look up. “I’ll make sure he’s treated right and well. You have my word.”

Jihoon’s father smiles at him, eyes glinting in respect and gratitude. Daniel can tell where Jihoon gets it then.

“Thank you, Prince Daniel,” he says, and to Jihoon who he gives one last hug to, “Be good. Stay healthy. And try not to be too sad.”

Daniel starts to step back a little to give them their moment, but Jihoon just nods and hugs his father in return, whispers something in his ear that Daniel thinks he already knows, before he pulls away and starts walking with him back to the streets they traversed..

Jihoon’s quiet, but Daniel can tell that there are probably tears falling from his face when they leave his street; when they reach the edge of his village; when they finally enter back the northern walls. They don’t speak a single word on the entire journey back, but the atmosphere between them never weighs down in the least. It’s light and futtering, actually, as if a wall had been broken in the space where their shoulders brush.

It’s on the tunnel back to the castle that Jihoon finally makes a sound, his eyes already dry but puffy nonetheless.

“Thank you,” he tells Daniel. Quiet and sincere, a small echo in the cavern they’re in. “You didn’t have to do this tonight. Really.”

Daniel stops in his tracks, turns sideways to face Jihoon and smiles. “It’s the least I can do. The pleasure is mine.”

“I’ll do my best to be a good servant. I’ll try not to be delinquent prisoner from now on,” he says with a small smile back. Daniel frowns.

“You’re not a prisoner, Jihoon.”

But he only chuckles, light and humorless before sniffing a little. “Will let me go then? Will you turn around and let me walk back to my father and pretend you didn’t know?”

The statement leaves him dry, making him open his mouth to nothing. His breathlessness already serving as an answer. “You know why I can’t do that.”

“I know,” Jihoon says, nodding again to prove his point. A point that Daniel so badly wants to refute. He tries to think of something to say,  _ anything— _ only to come up blank.

“It’s okay, your highness,” Jihoon tells him, bowing a little and flashing him a smile of reassurance. “I bear no ill will.”

He supposes that this is probably the best he can hope for at this point and as much as he wishes the circumstances were different, he’s just going to have to accept it. He sighs then, nodding in both defeat and acknowledgment when he speaks.

“Daniel.”

“Hm?” Jihoon raises an eyebrow, confused. He only smiles back warmly in return.

“Just call me Daniel.”


	5. Pride of a Servant

The shift happens quite instantaneously, and a bit too rash, that it leaves Jihoon feeling a little winded. Not even twelve hours later and just during breakfast over at the kitchens the following morning after their late-night excursion is when Daniel asks him if he has eaten yet.

Jihoon merely stares back with his mouth open and empty of words while holding in his hands a jug of freshly squeezed orange juice that he had gotten from Jinyoung inside the pantry. He pauses, freezing midway at the adjacent nook a few feet away from the small dining table Daniel is sitting at.

“Jihoon?”

“Huh?”

“I asked if you’ve eaten breakfast yet.”

Perhaps it really isn’t a shift, per se, and more like a  _ coming back _ of sorts to how they had originally treated each other before. Jihoon thinks of the Daniel he had spent the day with at his village—Euigeon—and finally begins to see the first few inklings that there may actually be no difference from the person who fed stray cats that day to this one he’s supposed to be serving breakfast to.

“Umm...not yet. I kind of woke up a little late.” He admits sheepishly. When Daniel doesn’t say anything more, he proceeds to walk to him again to pour him his drink.

“Come and join me then,” Daniel suddenly says, and Jihoon almost spills the pitcher he’s holding.

“S-sorry?”

“Eat with me.” Daniel repeats, smiling with his slightly crooked teeth. And before Jihoon can even do anything about it, the prince is already getting up from his seat to pick up a plate from the cupboard and some utensils before placing them on the side of the table across from him. “Jaehwan is out visiting the knight’s borders around the kingdom today so he can’t join me. And there’s much too plenty of food here for just one person. Come.”

“Umm...your highness, I don’t think—”

“You can’t eat?” Daniel rounds on him, brow raised and voice stern and commanding. “And what is this I’m hearing out of your mouth? Did I not make myself clear last night?”

Jihoon shrinks and holds his breath for a few seconds, worn down by the prince’s steely gaze. He’s about to apologize, that is until Daniel starts laughing his breathy, staccato laugh at him from out of nowhere.

“Daniel,” he says as a sort of reminder. “Just call me Daniel, especially when it’s just the two of us like this. Now come, let’s eat.”

He isn’t left with a lot of choices, really, or so he tells himself quietly in his head when he nods and takes the seat across from from the prince. It’s a little hard to escape after that though, when the food in front of him smells and looks divine enough that his stomach is quite literally having a frenzy from the sensory stimulation alone. It doesn’t take much more than that to finally push him to grab a few rolls from the bread basket and serve himself some of Jinyoung’s delicious potato soup.

Now, Jihoon has long since gone over with himself that he can’t really be held to blame for being a little less sharp than he usually is whenever he’s in the presence of good food. Considering that he’s also just as hungry, he doesn’t notice right away that Daniel’s quite literally staring at him for a good while and just watching him eat. He only does when he’s about to grab his second breakfast roll, prompting his eyebrows to raise in question when their eyes meet. Unsurprisingly, the prince just chuckles at him.

“Are you really that hungry? Or you just don’t care that you’re using your dessert spoon to eat your soup?”

It’s not even condescending or in ridicule but merely a casual observation, but Jihoon feels his ears heat up regardless as he looks down over at the spoon he’s holding in his right hand, then over to the two other spoons laid out beside his bowl and plate. Suddenly his appetite isn’t at the forefront of the list of priorities his body has as he slowly puts his spoon down to take a different one.

“Don’t they teach basic table manners at the academy?” Daniel asks in curiosity, and as harmless as the question is, it still pulls at a sensitive cord in him.

“I...never went to the academy,” Jihoon says, voice small and shy. He doesn’t even dare look up to see the kind of face Daniel has on, although he could take an easy guess.

“Oh...do you mind if I ask why?”

“My father and I can’t afford it,” comes his automatic answer, and he fills his mouth with a bite of bread to keep himself from saying more.

“Oh.” Daniel repeats, and Jihoon thinks he sees him nod. They both return to eating, and Jihoon finally feels himself falling back into comfort. The few silent seconds, however, is later deftly broken by the sound of the wooden leg of a chair brushing the surface of linoleum, when Daniel gets up and walks around the table to take the seat beside him.

“Do you mind it if I teach you?” He asks. When Jihoon doesn’t answer right away from the surprise, Daniel takes the spoon from his hand and puts it back down, giving him the third spoon from the set in front of him. “The one you were holding was for grains. This one is for soup. You can tell by looking at the shape, it’s a lot rounder at the head.”

Jihoon looks at it, notes its appearance and turns the utensil around before he uses it on his meal. It actually does take in a lot more liquid than the one he’d been using, although he can’t really fathom any other significant difference.

“I know it probably doesn’t matter that much,” Daniel says, as if he’d just read his thoughts. “But it pays to know, especially when you’re eating with people who care about these type of things.”

Jihoon bites his lip, nods in understanding. “Do you?”

“Do I what?”

Jihoon gestures to the table, over at the three different spoons on his side. “Care about which spoon is correct.”

There’s a few seconds where all the prince does is blink at him, but Jihoon eventually gets his answer in the form of a buck-toothed grin and Daniel reaching over to grab his bowl right before putting the rim of it in his mouth and sipping loudly. Jihoon laughs, not even realizing that it’s the first time he does so with him.

  
  
  
  
  


“Where are we going?”

It’s later in the day that he finds himself following Daniel all the way over to the east wing of Maroowen Castle. Neither Sungwoon nor Jaehwan had shown him here before, but to Jihoon the hallways and open rooms they happen to pass by don’t actually look that much different from the other parts of the castle. He looks at Daniel, hoping for an answer, but the prince doesn’t seem to have heard him.

“Daniel?” He tries again, the feeling of his name without a title is still quite foreign on his tongue. He gets ignored again though, and after making a turn on one corner, they finally stop.

In front of them is a large set of wooden double doors that’s easily twice the size of Jihoon’s height. There’s nothing too lavish about it besides its enormity, as it’s definitely not as intricate and ornate as the doors to Daniel’s bedchambers. 

“Close your eyes,” he suddenly says, and Jihoon turns to give him a confused look. 

“Why?”

“Just trust me.”

He doesn’t really know when exactly their relationship—which had been rocky and laden with lies to begin with—had suddenly escalated to the point where it’s okay for Daniel to tell him that. Sure he had done him something good last night when he snuck him out of the castle to go see his father, but Jihoon doubts trust works instantly like he implies it to be. Even weirder though, just looking at the way he’s smiling so wide at him actually makes him  _ want _ to trust this man. It’s strange, but eventually Jihoon sighs and does as he’s told.

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

Jihoon frowns at the darkness beneath his lids, a light scoff in his breath. “How would I know?”

There’s the unmistakable laugh that could only come from him, and then Jihoon feels him step away a little right before he hears the sound of opening doors. He flinches in surprise and almost blinks his eyes open when he feels Daniel’s hands suddenly holding both of his own, but he manages to push the shock away when he starts being led to walk forward.

“Keep them closed, okay? We’re almost there.”

“Where is  _ there _ anyway? And what does it have to do with my apparent blindness.”

“You’ll see. The magic only works if you close your eyes and open them when I tell you to.”

Jihoon frowns. He’s seen magic before—on Hallows Eve whenever those colorful gyspsy caravans roll into the market square and perform magical shows for the people in the villages. He remembers one trick where one of the performing parties asked a volunteer to close his eyes and count to ten. Jihoon had been in the audience then but he can imagine what it must’ve felt like to open his eyes and find himself floating five feet above the ground in front of the crowd. He doubts Daniel knows any magic or could even make him float, but the curiosity piques him nonetheless.

“Okay. Stop,” Daniel tells him and they halt their steps. He lets go of his hands and Jihoon suddenly feels a cold draft replace the warmness of them. Magic?

“You can open your eyes now.”

Jihoon slowly lifts the dark shades of his eyelids in a slow flutter, his gaze sharpening to focus on the sudden brightness. The first thing his vision lands on is Daniel’s grinning face, all bright thanks to the large windows inside the room that’s letting in all the midday light. When his eyes move over and away from the prince, his breath is all but knocked out of him in the span of a single second. 

There are books upon books on every surface of the walls creating the room, stacked immaculately on dark, wooden shelves that line his immediate surroundings. The midnight-blue rug on the marbled floor leads off to a sitting area with plush looking upholsteries, and to a study that’s equipped with more desks than Jihoon’s ever seen in one place before. There’s even a staircase in the middle, granting access to the second level that houses even more tomes and opuscules—another world upon one that looks endless in its aisles of shelves.

Jihoon can feel his jaw dropping as he turns himself around to take it all in. There’s no magic here, no floating spells nor colorful caravans. It’s just a room full of books, which in itself is magical in his eyes.

“It’s—” He can’t even get out a word for it, but something tells him that the wordlessness speaks a lot more than the contrary.

“This is the main library of the castle,” Daniel says, a smile in his voice. “And...well I guess that’s all the introduction it needs.”

He composes himself a little, biting his lip to contain some of his emotions. He fails. “Why are we here?”

At that Daniel looks over to his left, he tilts his head in the direction and walks there for him to follow. He takes a while scanning the volumes on one particular shelf, pulling out a brown, hardcover book from the lot and handing it over to him.  _ Table Manners of Kings and Lords _ it says, in gold, cursive lettering pressed on the cover.

“This is just one book of probably a thousand. One subject among a hundred,” Daniel says, nodding to his hand. “It’s not an academy, but nothing’s ever lost in reading a book or two.”

The implication is thickly obvious but a little hard to swallow. So Jihoon asks, “Are you saying, I can borrow this to read?”

Daniel laughs, the kind that’s warm and fluttery like the feeling of sunlight passing through the glass windows. He shakes his head. “I’m saying, you can come here to open  _ any  _ book you wish to read, whenever you please. Spend as much time as you want here, pick up and read everything your hand lands on.”

Jihoon blinks, completely dumbfounded by the statement. He swallows the formed lump that’s lodges itself in his throat, and even then he has trouble speaking.

“But what about my duties? I’m supposed to be serving you.”

“Contrary to my father’s implied belief, I can actually function perfectly well without a servant following me from sunrise to sunset.” Daniel scoffs, mockingly rolling his eyes. “Don’t worry about me, I can take care of myself.”

“But what if someone finds me in here? Won’t I get in trouble if I’m seen away from you?”

Daniel shakes his head, a small smirk forming on his face. “No one actually ever comes here. Ever since they renovated that new study near the main hall, people have just been lazy to walk all the way over to the east wing,” he says, shrugging casually. “If by chance someone  _ does _ catch you in here, just pretend you’re looking for a book and tell them that I sent you. No big deal.”

Jihoon’s still finding it hard to call up his ability for comprehension. He looks at the book in his hands, then over at the rest in the vicinity. He thinks back to the small bookshelf that his father had made for him back in his bedroom, of the seven books he owns in comparison. Not for the first time since arriving in this castle, he feels like he’s about to cry.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Daniel says, nodding before stepping to the side. “I have a few errands to do that won’t really require me to have you, so you can pretty much spend the entire afternoon here. You can just come and find me when the sun is about to set.”

“Wait,” Jihoon says right as Daniel turns to leave. “Why?”

“Sorry?”

Jihoon gestures to the book in his hands, then over at their surroundings. “Why are you letting me do this? I mean, if you’re trying to prove to me that you’re actually a really nice person, I kind of already know that even without all this.”

Daniel laughs at him again, softer this time, with pursed lips and crescents for eyes. He walks back over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m not trying to prove to you my kindness, Jihoon. What I want to prove is the state you think your life is in,” he says slowly, his voice low. “You said you’re a prisoner here. And yes, technically that’s true...but I want you to know that you’re a prisoner because of the law. Not because I’m treating you like one.”

At this close of a distance, Jihoon can smell the faint, musky scent coming off from Daniel’s skin. He can see the crookedness of his teeth when he talks, and the small mole marked below his right eye. The small things that make up Daniel, things that Jihoon is coming to learn little by little that add up to something far more grander.

“Thank you,” he says, a bare whisper in the still air of the library.

“I'll see you later then. Enjoy yourself.”

Jihoon nods fervently. He doesn’t need to be told twice.

  
  
  
  
  


It develops into a routine, what he and Daniel share, that slowly bleeds into their days and weeks around the castle. Besides cleaning up after Ori, taking Daniel's clothes every morning from Daehwi, and doing some domestic duties for him, Jihoon actually feels more like a normal person simply doing work for the prince and less as a servant living to pay off a punishment.

Daniel has even made it into a habit to ask Jihoon every morning at breakfast if he's eaten yet, to the point that he's made it an official 'order' that he join him at his morning meals on a daily basis. Sometimes Jaehwan is there to eat with them, and sometimes Jinyoung joins in too. What Jihoon favors the most though—and it's probably a little selfish on his part—is when it's just him and Daniel occupying the small dining table. On those days, Daniel openly teaches him his table etiquette, a teacher to practice what he reads from the very first book he's ever borrowed from the library.

"You're chewing too fast, and taking too much food on your spoon," Daniel points out one morning. The kitchen has served them breads and cheeses, some rice grains and stewed vegetables to pair. "Fill your spoon just a little over half its head size. And when you scoop your grains, you cut through the surface instead of shoveling down your plate."

Jihoon nods, trying again on his next bite. "Is this enough?" He asks, raising his spoon again. When Daniel gives him a nod of approval, he brings it to his mouth. 

He looks at the prince for affirmation, which he doesn’t really get. Instead, Daniel gets up from his seat and makes his way over to him, going around on his side of the table. Jihoon’s about to turn around and look but he feels a hand go to the small of his back and another to his shoulder—straightening him and adjusting his posture.

"Keep your back erect,” Daniel says softly, leaning towards his ear. “Remember, the food comes to you, not the other way around. Try again.”

The warmth of hands on him leave his body and Daniel goes back to his seat. Jihoon tries very hard to keep the position he’s in, and moves only in the slightest to spoon some food into his mouth. When he looks back at the prince, he’s smiling. And Jihoon doesn’t shy away from openly returning the gesture back.

The opportunities for learning doesn’t stop at breakfast either. Admittedly, a lot of why that’s the case has to do with the fact that Daniel generally just tells him to go to the library on most days and that he won’t be needing to follow him around much. And quite literally, the time between after their morning meal and before the sun sets for the day does carry quite a number of hours to which Jihoon spends every second reading arduously.

That’s not to say that his learning stops at the library either because on the contrary, the days he’s actually expected to attend to the prince holds just as much value. Daniel’s days are mostly taken up by his schooling and lessons from different tutors and scholars of the castle, and although much of what he’s learning is a little beyond Jihoon’s grasp, he still does pick up a few things whenever he’s allowed to sit in on his classes.

“I hate arithmetics. I honestly don’t understand how learning all these numbers is even going to apply to me in the future,” Daniel complains to him one afternoon, while they’re out on the palace grounds taking Ori for a prowl.

“I think it’s interesting though,” Jihoon muses, eyes following the trail of the sabertooth walking in front of them. “Solving all those equations, finding solutions. It’s all numbers but it kind of keeps your mind sharp. Like, exercise for your head.”

“Blasphemy.” Daniel laughs, looking over to him. “Maybe you can help me solve the equations Jisung’s left me to do tonight. You seem to be much better at it than I ever will.”

“Isn’t that cheating?” Jihoon raises an eyebrow, chuckling at Daniel’s sly smirk.

“I won’t tell anyone if you won’t.”

On the physical aspect of things, Jihoon also very soon learns that while Daniel can feel a little taxed in front of his tutors and on a desk, the difference when he’s outside is vastly different. He doesn’t even mind or think it boring when he’s made to just stand and wait in the courtyard while Daniel does his sword fighting lessons. It’s quite entertaining actually, and also fascinating to watch from a bystander’s point of view of what goes on in this type of activity.

The first time the prince brings him to these sessions, Jihoon’s left gaping in wonder and awe on the sidelines that Daniel did not let him live it down with his laughter much the entire day. To be fair, he’s never really seen sword fighting up close before, and he has to admit that the grace and ferocity Daniel displays on the field is something next to otherworldly. It even takes on a whole different level when it’s Jaehwan he’s sparring with, who by all accounts is just as good—if not better—as the prince himself.

“That’s three wins for me and only one for you Daniel,” Jaehwan taunts him in a sing-song voice, brandishing his sword and pacing the courtyard. “You’re lucky you have Jihoon now, otherwise you’d be sweeping up Ori’s dung for the next foreseeable future.”

Jihoon can feel Daniel laugh, as he stands next to where he’s seated while he helps him remove his arm guards. “We used to make bets on who will clean up after Ori whenever we dueled,” Daniel explains to him, slightly out of breath.

“And guess who always wins.” Jaehwan winks at him. “Maybe you ought to teach Jihoon to how to sword fight too. Level your chances on the betting field.”

Instead of falling for the taunt and laughing like Jihoon expects he would, Daniel merely turns to look at him with a thoughtful expression. Pensive.

“Have you ever held a sword before?” He asks, and Jihoon is honestly surprised that even Jaehwan looks on with curiosity.

“I haven’t even seen one up close until I started watching you two,” he says, a little sheepish. 

“Ah, a virgin.” Jaehwan says in a light chuckle. “What do you say, Jihoon? Daniel and I are pretty good at handling swords. Maybe we can teach you a thing or two.”

Suffice to say, there was nary a form of teaching made that afternoon when all the prince and his knight did was ceaselessly laugh at Jihoon’s crimson face.

Perhaps his most favorite part out of everything he’s grown accustomed to since living in Maroowen Castle is still the time he spends doing hours of reading in the main library. Nothing really beats jumping from different worlds and grasping new knowledge and facts for him to ponder about, feeding his curiosity and being productive even in leisure. Most times Ori even joins him in the room, lounging on one of the upholstered seats and providing him company while he takes his afternoon naps. But what Jihoon looks forward to the most are the times when it’s the prince himself that accompanies him; on days he’s not out practicing with swords or attending lessons and merely reads fictional tales with him.

And it’s on a day as such that Jihoon happens to stumble upon a certain book on the second level of the library from the corner of the fourth shelf.  _ The Continent of Esna, A History,  _ it says on the surface of the blue, hardbound cover; written in detail of the various kingdoms and lands beyond theirs. He’s never once been out of Maroowen, and the idea of so much more beyond their walls excite him.

His eyes are scanning over the myriad of texts and illustrations when he happens to run by a passage that tells of a certain kingdom that lay to the west of Maroowen. Jihoon frowns at the words, and over at the evident lack of information the book carries of this certain topic. He flips to the very last page in the book to find that the volume in his hands is quite recently made.

“I haven’t seen anyone frown so hard in front of a book besides Jisung with his manuscripts,” comes a voice to his left. Jihoon looks up to see Daniel smirking at him, arms crossed in amusement. “What are you reading?”

He flushes a little, raising to show the prince the cover. “It has information about all the different kingdoms in Esna. But…” He trails off, brows dipping again as he flips back to the page in question. “There’s mention of this particular kingdom—High Garden—that is said to lie a little ways to the west of here. But this is where the passage ends and there’s not much else about it.”

He looks up at Daniel again, surprised to find a passive expression on his face. “I forget sometimes that you didn’t get lessons from the academy,” he says, a little sheepish. “There’s not much else on the topic you’re referring to because High Garden doesn’t exist anymore.” 

He motions for Jihoon to follow him, and they walk over to where most the history books are placed before Daniel scans the spines of the volumes with his finger. He stops over one in the middle of the shelf, pulling it out along with dust.

“This is similar to the book you’re holding, but this one was made and written before we were even born,” he says, opening and thumbing the yellowed pages. “Ah, here.”

Daniel stands beside him to show a particular page, one that even has an illustration of what looks to be a huge castle adorned with plants and vines. Castle Emeraldia, it says beneath, the glorious castle of High Garden.

“The Kingdom of High Garden used to be where the elven race resided, over at the far woods west of our kingdom.”

“Oh.” Jihoon blinks, flipping the page of the book Daniel’s holding to see even more illustrations. Detailed accounts of the technologies and magical artifacts of the elven race. Architectural styles, clothing, and even weaponry. Paragraphs upon paragraphs about the people that were deemed far more superior than the ordinary man, more skillful and dexterous than any other known being in Esna. Suddenly, Jihoon's interest reaches the skies.

“Where do the elven race live now? If they’re not in High Garden anymore?” He asks, still engrossed in the book. He only looks up when Daniel doesn’t give him an answer right away, finding his face looking a little morose.

“They didn’t move away, Jihoon.” He answers, quiet and worried. “High Garden, along with every living thing that resided in that kingdom, perished in a cataclysmic accident twenty five years ago.”

The floor disappears from under his feet, and Jihoon has to fight hard to keep his legs from shaking. As high as his excitement had taken him comes the plummet that all but shatters every bone in his body. He stares at Daniel with widened eyes, breath caught in his throat.

"W-what?"

"They called it the Calamity Magus," Daniel says, factual and hard. It's as if the mere mention of those words is something of a taboo. "No one really knows that much about it except that it has something to do with magic." He flips to a few pages, to paragraphs of text delving on the elven craft. "There's no official account, but some people believe that the elves were housing some kind of strong magical force in their kingdom and they lost control of it. What happened to them is actually the reason why people don't practice magic all that much at a big scale anymore."

Jihoon stares at the pages the book is flipped open on, trying to make sense of words he can barely pronounce. He bites his lip to keep it from quivering, looking at what’s probably the last of only a few remnants of a civilization that was once a home for a lot of people—now gone from this world, with no one to carry on a legacy, no one to tell their history.

“Jihoon?”

He looks up from the book, meeting Daniel’s worried gaze.

“You’re crying,” he says in utter concern. Then to no one’s expectation—most especially not Jihoon’s—the prince begins to reach up and cup his face, brushing a thumb over the tear sliding down his cheek. Jihoon doesn’t know if he freezes because of the fact that he’s crying, or because Daniel’s the one wiping his tears away for him. 

“What’s wrong?”

Instead of answering, Jihoon just quietly stares back at Daniel's small eyes. He doesn't breathe—he can't—nor does he make any sort of move to stop the prince when he feels him take a step closer. Daniel looks to be just as transfixed as he is, stuck in a stagnant moment with nothing but the silent, echoing ticks of the standing clock in the middle of the library to fill the void.

"Umm...I—" Jihoon starts to mutter when his ability for speech comes back. He’s not certain whether it’s the sound of his voice that acts as a trigger, but Daniel visibly tenses in the next second and pulls away his hand as if he had just touched hot iron. What’s more surprising though is why Jihoon suddenly feels like he  _ is  _ hot iron; face hot and heavy with a slight sting that travels all the way down to his chest.

“S-sorry. I didn’t—”

“It’s okay,” Jihoon says, although not entirely sure what there is to excuse being okay about. “I, umm—I think I just got something in my eye.”

It’s nowhere near believable even to him, but he’s glad when Daniel seems to accept his answer and starts taking a step back. For some reason, the air grows a lot lighter.

“Maybe you’re starting to read too much,” he says with a chuckle, forced and awkward. “Take it easy, okay?”

Jihoon only hums in response and doesn’t say anything more when the prince starts to walk away. He takes a deep breath first, clutching the book Daniel had handed over close to his chest. He’ll save reading it for later, when he’s alone and there’s no one to witness any tears lest they fall from his eyes again.

  
  
  
  
  


***

  
  
  
  
  


When Sungwoon tells Jihoon a week later that a princess will be visiting their castle to have dinner with Daniel, the first immediate question that pops up in his head but doesn't voice out is  _ 'again?' _

He can still remember the last dinner that happened not too long ago, the humiliating fiasco of a night with that prince who wore too much gold on him and wouldn't stop talking about his material riches. If what went down that night would be the basis of anyone's judgment, Jihoon finds himself feeling a little puzzled as to why Daniel is even considering to entertain another stranger over a meal.

And he'd ask him the very question too, if it weren't for the fact that upon getting the news that he'd be one of the servers for the special night he's whisked away on a busy whirlwind in the dining room where the dinner will be held; leaving him no time to even see Daniel much throughout the day.

It's only just after the sun sets and when he's clad in a more formal and presentable fashion, thanks to Daehwi, that he sees the prince for the first time since having breakfast with him this morning. Daniel walks inside the wait station where all the servers are gathered and preparing the courses for tonight, his eyes scanning the room until it lands on him.

"Your highness," one of the staff says, making a bow that's followed by everyone in the room.

"Ah, please resume your work," he says with a wave of a hand, his footsteps taking him to Jihoon. His raiments for tonight are hued a dark green, the color of the forest that heavily accentuates his brown hair.

"Well don't you look dashing," Daniel says when he reaches him, in a voice only they can hear. Jihoon blinks and chuckles a response, bowing in his direction. 

"Is that compliment for me or for you, your highness?" He teases him with his title, earning him a roll of the eyes.

"I didn't come all the way here just to say that to myself," he says with a small smile before glancing to the side where all the work is happening. "But let's pretend that I came to check that everything is in order."

Jihoon purses his lips and bites down an otherwise toothy grin. He watches Danie's eyes slowly giving him a once over, the subtle gesture making the base of his neck feel warm.

"You remember everything I taught you?" Daniel asks, quietly amused.

"Is this a test?" Jihoon raises an eyebrow in challenge, matching his smirk. "I guess we'll find out soon."

He gets a breathy laugh but just as Daniel is about to quip back with a response, Sungwoon enters the room and rather exasperatedly pulls the prince with him back out to the dining room muttering under his breath that he'd been trying to look for him and that everyone is quite literally waiting for him outside. Jihoon laughs then, waving at the prince's retreating figure.

Based on what he’s overheard from the other servants, the visiting princess tonight is from the north-eastern kingdom of Ygorva. He’s read about that on the history book at the library, about the cold-weathered kingdom that is said to have snow for eight out of twelve months in a year. It even shows, when it becomes Jihoon’s turn to serve one of the entrèes to the dining table and he gets a good look at the princess for the first time; pale skin with reddish-orange hair, and a gown that looks like it’s made from the pelt of some thick-furred animal. 

It’s even a better sign, he thinks, that the princess isn’t talking her mouth dry when he goes out to serve them and is merely in a casual conversation with Daniel. Not that it’s any of Jihoon’s business to worry or be concerned about the kind of person his prince is having dinner with, but it's just something good he takes note of—or so he tells himself.

He focuses back on his job though when the main course of their dinner is about to be served. Jihoon waltzes over to Daniel while another servant handles for the princess. He places the dish consisting of a prime cut of beef cooked in live flame, with a thick brothy sauce and potatoes on the side. He positions the knife and fork apt for the meal, before carefully filling the wine glass with more of the dark-red liquid. He doesn’t stutter, doesn’t falter in his movements; all the while not noticing that Daniel is quite literally staring at his every move. It’s only when he’s done and happening to steal a glance at the prince that he sees a smile on his face. Subtle and small, but dripping with pride.

There's something that blossoms inside his chest then, something warm and full and solid that can't possibly be because of pride and fulfillment alone. His gaze is stuck on Daniel's eyes, who by no means is providing any help on the matter when he just continues to stare back at him with the same intensity.

"Prince Daniel, you absolutely must pass my compliments to your chef. This steak tastes divine!"

The voice of the princess snaps both of them back to reality, to Daniel rerouting his smile to his date and Jihoon going back to becoming their servant. He tries not to think too hard about the facts and just focuses on his job, if only to distract himself from the weird throb his chest does just now.

It all runs smoothly much through the entire night. Jihoon isn’t groping blindly and worrying about whether he’s doing something wrong as compared to the last dinner, and he can clearly see that even Daniel looks to be having a rather pleasant time. 

The night is almost ending and Jihoon has just served them their desserts of peach-apple pies when the princess suddenly calls for his attention. He turns back to her, facing her placid expression.

"Excuse me, but I think you've forgotten to bring a dessert fork for this pie," she says, polite and petite. Jihoon confusedly blinks at her because he  _ knows _ he just handed to her what she's asking for.

"Umm—my apologies, my lady. But I've already placed the fork just now beside your table napkin to your right."

"I’m sorry? Did you just imply that  _ I’m _ the one who’s wrong?" She suddenly snaps back without even looking to where he's pointed to, her voice higher than what she'd been using to talk with all this time.

"Ah, no my lady. I was just saying—"

"Yes, I heard you the first time," she says, and Jihoon only now realizes how horribly nasal her voice sounds. "And I'm saying that what you just gave me  _ isn't _ a dessert fork. So if you would be so kind."

She gestures with a shooing motion with her hand. Jihoon honestly is at a loss for what to do. Even if he were to walk back to the wait station like she's asking, he'd just end up wasting everyone's time by bringing her the exact same thing he had just placed down.

"My lady, if you would check your table, I'm sure that—"

"Are you implying I don't know what a dessert fork looks like?!" Her voice gets up to an all out high, shrill and echoey inside the dining room. "I am a  _ princess _ and you are but a ratty servant. So either you do as I say or—!"

"Princess Rosè, forgive my interruption," Daniel quietly butts in from across the table, waving his fork in the air. "But I must say that this pie is absolutely beyond the merits of our chefs this evening. I implore you to try it my lady, as I believe it would taste no different if you were to use a dessert fork or a salad fork."

With a sly smirk and a heavy bat of an eye, the princess visibly relaxes and falls for Daniel's charms to placation. She picks up her fork and takes her first bite of the dessert, moaning as she does.

"I believe you are right, my prince. This pie does taste heavenly."

Jihoon inwardly rolls his eyes, gagging.

"Thank you, Princess Rosè." Daniel tips his head forward in a small bow. "Now, I believe you owe my steward an apology."

The princess almost chokes on a chunk of apple when she directs her widened gaze at Daniel. She isn't alone in this though, because Jihoon also finds himself looking over to the prince in surprise.

"I-I beg your pardon?"

Daniel merely grows his smile warmer. "While something so trivial doesn’t really concern me that much, I don't believe Jihoon here made a mistake over the fork you were so adamant in pointing out. And even if he did, I don't reckon the behavior you just displayed is quite adequate to tolerate,” he says with full blown politeness dripping from his words. “It's just an apology, my lady."

The shock must be so tantamount because where Jihoon expects affront and resentment, the princess' face only blows up wider in surprise. She opens her mouth a good two times before anything actually even comes out, and even then all she says is,

"I will do no such thing. I am a princess, and I do  _ not  _ apologize to servants."

Jihoon doesn't know for sure if it's only him, but he can feel the tension in the room rising at a steady rate. Daniel seems unaffected though, still keeping up his wanton smile and merely nodding at the princess' words.

"I understand," he starts to say, eyes never leaving hers. "Ser Jaehwan?"

The black knight comes in not a second later from behind one of the doors to the left of the room. He marches next to Daniel with a slate face, bowing.

"Would you please be so kind to escort Princess Rosè back to her carriage? She won't be prolonging her stay in the castle tonight any further."

The princess scoffs and pushes her head back, stricken in shock. "Prince Daniel—!"

"You should know that any form of disrespect you show to my people reflects back to me, princess. By insulting my steward, you have directly insulted me and I will not stand for such behavior in my castle," Daniel says, sounding both stern and soft at the same time. "I wish you a safe travel back to your kingdom, my lady. Thank you again for joining me for dinner."

There's a few silent seconds that pass where the princess just continues to stare at Daniel in horror. She only gets up when Jaehwan starts making his way to get her, leaving only the two of them in the huge dining room.

The silence is piercing. Jihoon looks over to him to see how unbothered Daniel seems and merely finishes off the pie in his plate as if he hadn't just thrown away a lady from his presence.

"Jihoon," he calls for him after he's taken the last bite of his pie. "Will you walk with me back to my chambers? I'd like to turn in soon."

He can't really make out what the prince is thinking by the tone of his voice, but he nods in assent anyway and begins to follow him through the halls; their muffled footsteps on the running carpets sending shockwaves of noise through the quiet of the night. He considers the possibility of Daniel actually being mad about what had happened, but the expressionless face he has on reveals nothing of the sort nor the opposite. Jihoon bites his lips, sighing silently before he finally speaks.

"Daniel...I'm sorry about back there. I shouldn't have—"

"Why are you apologizing?" The prince slightly turns his head to him, and Jihoon looks up to see a face of confusion. "You have nothing to be sorry about, Jihoon."

Somehow he doesn't quite believe that, if his memory of just a few moments ago serves as any witness. "It looked like you were having a good time with her...and I feel like I ruined it."

He really ought to not be surprised when all Daniel does is let out a chuckle. It’s a comfort though, to hear it out.

"It’s my job as a prince to always  _ look _ like I'm enjoying another person's company even when I feel the exact opposite. Just as much as it’s my job to stand up for my people," he says, smirking wryly. "And besides, the princess probably didn't talk as much as the last person I had a dinner date with, but that's really only where the distinction stops. So really, I should be thanking you yet again for saving me from another horrible date.”

Jihoon finds himself smiling at that, the pull at the corners of his mouth making him sheepish and forcing him to look at the ground. They’re almost to Daniel’s room, having taken the flight of stairs that lead to this level of the castle, when he manages to build up the courage and finally ask what’s been lingering in his mind since this morning.

“If you don’t like having dinners and dates so much, why do you keep seeing all these princes and princesses?” Jihoon says, hoping that his question doesn’t sound too nosy. He’s just really curious, as he so repeatedly tells himself for whenever he asks these things. When he doesn’t get an answer right away, Jihoon takes a sideways glance only to see that the smile that had been playing on Daniel’s lips just seconds ago is completely gone from his features. He feels something dropping to the base of his stomach then, when the silence stretches and the prince just keeps walking as if he hadn’t heard anything.

They finally make it to the door of his chambers and Jihoon stops in his tracks when he sees Daniel do the same in front of him. The air is thick and heavy, and he regrets now more than ever for even daring to open his big mouth. He’s crossed a line and he should probably apologize, but the feeling he gets just thinking about it is already leaving a sour taste in his mouth. 

“Do you need help preparing for bed?” He says instead, opting to cut the tension of the situation with work. Again, Daniel doesn’t answer him, but this time he turns around—facing him with neither a smile or even a hint of one on his face, only a coldness Jihoon isn’t used to seeing.

“It’s also one of my jobs as a prince to find someone to marry,” he says the fact slowly, voice quiet and low. “That’s why we go to the trouble of entertaining guests such as tonight, for me to get to know them and discern whether they can be potential candidates for marriage.”

Jihoon can only blink, not entirely comprehending what he just heard. “Why?”

Daniel’s eyebrows dip, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean why do you need to get married?” Jihoon bites his lips when that comes out. Even  _ he  _ can hear the disapproval in his own voice.

"Well, you need two people to rule a kingdom. And I'm the heir to the throne," Daniel says simply, and if Jihoon didn't know any better he'd say he doesn't sound the least bit happy about it.

"Your father has been doing a pretty good job at ruling the kingdom by himself,” Jihoon says matter-of-factly, a pout in his tone. “I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t be able to do the same.”

Daniel pulls up a smile again, one that doesn't quite reach his eyes. “I’m not my father, Jihoon.”

“But even so," Jihoon tries to say, his hesitation flying with the wind. “You’re only twenty-one, right? Do princes normally get married this early?”

Daniel lets out a chuckle at that, void of humor and the usual lightness. “I’m not like most princes.”

There’s a solemness to his words that Jihoon can’t quite get his head around on, a darkness in his voice that he’s only heard once; back when they were still at each other’s throats and he was being threatened for escaping the castle. Besides that, there’s also a sense of finality in his tone that tells him that question time is over.

“You should go to bed.” Daniel says, nodding to him. “I can take it from here.”

It’s as good a send off as any, one that Jihoon easily takes a hint of. He nods at the prince, stepping to go but not before tilting his head in a bow.

“Thank you,” he says, smiling earnestly when he meets his face again. “You didn’t have to do what you did earlier...defending me. So thank you, Daniel. For having my back.”

He gets a smile then, wider and closer to what he usually exudes this time. Daniel takes a step closer, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“I gave my word to someone that I’d take care of you. Make sure you’re treated well,” he says, and Jihoon can feel his breath stuck inside his throat when he says that. “I don’t break my promises Jihoon. I’ll always have your back.”

He’s taken back to what had happened in the library around a week ago. Daniel, standing so close that he can feel his breath wafting over his face—making his blood freeze with hot warmth trickling through his skin. He tries to swallow, tries to  _ breathe,  _ but all that ends up happening is more or less of the same perplexity he’s in.

“Goodnight,” Daniel whispers to him, before stepping back and finally giving him some space. Jihoon only nods, not trusting his voice, before he turns around and heads the other way towards where his own room is. He bites the inside of his cheek and keeps his head from going anywhere he doesn’t even understand; trying his best to ignore the way his heart is beating at a rate that isn’t normal for someone who was merely having a conversation with another person. 


	6. Night to Remember

The sounds of metal clanging and boots scraping on concrete fill the courtyard under the late afternoon sun. Daniel lunges again, extending his right arm with a force that reverberates down his entire body when his sword meets another in a hard parry. Jaehwan smirks at him, not even a hair out of place.

“Is that all you got,  _ your highness? _ ” He says, taunting and provocative. He swishes his sword clockwise, dislodging Daniel against him with ease.

“I’m just getting started,  _ my lord.” _

He lunges forward again, steel on steel echoing in a sharp note. He steps to the right this time in tune with his attack, but Jaehwan is already turning on his heel to block his sword vertically before he even gets his first step; the sudden shift breaking his balance and almost tripping him. Almost.

“You’re watching my hands too much. Eyes open. Watch my feet.” Jaehwan recites and this time, goes for his own offense—a barrage of three strikes, all of which Daniel easily predicts and parries.

“Don’t go easy on me now—”

He bends his body backward in a rush, narrowly missing the half-moon slice Jaehwan throws at him. 

"Who says I am?" 

The young knight gives him a volley of slashes again, each one harder and stronger than the last. Daniel finds himself getting pushed backward, using both hands to grasp his hilt and block each of his best friend’s attacks. He waits for his opening, but it doesn't come when Jaehwan is suddenly sweeping his blows to the left and easily hitting the side of his torso in a soft strike—an immense opposite from how hard his hits were seconds ago.

"First strike. Come on, my prince. Keep up—"

Daniel strikes his sword in a high curve in an attempt to rid Jaehwan of his. He swoops his arm down in the next instant, aiming for the torso and—

"Strike two."

He looks up to Jaehwan's smug expression, feeling the tip of his sword poking his abdomen. He doesn't even have time to comprehend how on earth he had moved that fast to counter when he's being bombarded again with ear-shattering blows. Jaehwan is ruthless, completely poised and balanced and attacking with one hand behind his back. Daniel tries to sneak in an offensive blow but it's easily thrown off, the risk of the move almost earning him a last and final strike.

When Jaehwan poses and shifts his posture to an obvious sideward swing, Daniel raises the hilt of his sword skyward to block it. The next move is obvious in which the defender throws off the attacker’s sword back—but Daniel does the opposite. He moves his sword to the direction Jaehwan has swung to, pivoting and twisting his feet on the ground until he does a full turn. Jaehwan is quick enough to spot his movements and prepare for a counter strike, but just before he waves his sword on the spot he expects him to hit, Daniel spins again—turning a full circle back towards the other direction and extending his sword at just the right moment that perfectly lands an inch away from Jaehwan's neck.

Daniel flashes his teeth, smiling victoriously.

"Three hits to the body," he breathes out, feeling the drip of his sweat down his chest for the first time.

"Or one to the head. Good job, Niel." Jaehwan smiles back, just as out of breath as he is. His posture relaxes and they shake hands, right before a single round of applause resounds to their right.

Daniel smiles even wider, eyes landing on a bush of bright, blonde hair and a toothy grin of amazement from the only other person in the courtyard watching them. He makes for a showman's bow, before waltzing over to sit beside his servant.

"That was amazing!" Jihoon exclaims, reaching over to hand him a water pouch. "You moved so fast I didn't even dare to blink!”

“Well, what did you expect from a  _ fantastic _ swordsman such as myself?” Daniel says smugly, tipping the water down his throat.

“And you were so graceful too, the both of you. It was like you were dancing!"

"I knew that move looked familiar,” Jaehwan pipes in, leaning his body on one of the columns. “You sly dog.”

Daniel only chuckles and relishes his pride in victory, even more so when he catches Jihoon blinking confusedly at them. 

“If there’s one thing in the world I’m willing to admit Daniel’s better at than me, it’s dancing,” Jaehwan tells him in explanation, snorting. “He’s been taking dance lessons since the moment he could walk, but I never thought he’d actually apply and do those fancy pirouettes with a sword in hand. I’m impressed.”

“I got to put in some surprises if I ever want to beat you in a duel, Jaen.” Daniel chuckles, taking another swig. He catches Jihoon staring at him again, his eyes alight and glinting. 

He dares to flash him a small smirk, a small upward tilt at the right corner of his mouth. The effect—one that he’s starting to learn to have fun with and notice more of recently—is instantaneous. He’s never seen anyone’s neck and ears turn so red so fast before.

“Daniel.”

“Huh?” He snaps out of the daze of his own making, turning to face Jaehwan who’s giving the both of them a weird look.

“I said, do you wanna try giving Jihoon lessons now?”

That snaps his servant out of his daze too, wild and surprise-blown eyes darting between him and Jaehwan. “What?”

“Did you think we were joking when we mentioned that we’d teach you?” Jaehwan raises an amused eyebrow, picking his sword back up and brandishing it in the air. “Come on blondie, let’s see what you got!”

Daniel laughs when all Jihoon does is turn even redder and throw him a face that’s quite literally asking for help. “I-I don’t know how—”

“That’s why we’re here,” Daniel says, swiftly removing his arm guards then proceeding to fasten them on Jihoon who’s currently as stiff as a tree. “Relax. This will be fun, I promise.”

When he’s satisfied with his handiwork, he takes his hand and brings him to the center of the square where Jaehwan’s watching in wait. Daniel picks up his sword and hands it over to Jihoon, giving him a feel of the weapon first.

“It’s a little heavy, but it’s nothing you won’t get used to,” he says, clasping their fingers together on the hilt. “And don’t worry about cutting anyone. The sword is dulled so the most you’ll get is just a bruise if you get hit too hard.”

Jihoon stares at the blade in his hands then, his grip solid and stressed. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“Then don’t think,” he says, in a quieter and softer voice while his thumb smooths out gentle circles on his wrist. “Just do. Jaehwan’s the best teacher you could ever get so don’t worry, okay? I’ll be right here to watch.”

It seems to work when he feels and sees Jihoon’s shoulders relax a little. He gives him a hearty pat on the back, before he sits back down on one of the stone benches on the side.

“Alright,” Jaehwan announces, nodding to his new sparring partner. “Why don’t you try going at me first, Jihoon?”

“Go...at you?”

“Just come and hit me with your sword. Or try, rather.” Jaehwan smirks, smug. “The goal is to either hit my torso three times or corner my head in a death strike. Just give it all you’ve got, don’t worry.”

The hesitation is palpable, but Daniel finds himself smiling at his innocence. “Umm, okay.”

He looks on in mirth, watching how Jihoon tries to get a hold of his sword with two hands and raising it in front of him. He doesn’t have to wait very long until Jihoon is stepping forward, reluctantly swinging his weapon that Jaehwan easily parries with a simple flick of his wrist. 

“Good, good. For now, we’re just letting you get a feel of it. Of the sword and what it’s like to hit,” Jaehwan says, holding his defensive stance. “Alright, keep going.”

Jihoon nods, adjusting his grip. He swings his sword rather awkwardly again, the clang of metal on metal ringing in the space around them. Daniel smiles from his place, enjoying the sight of Jihoon learning. He’s not too keen to admit it—not even to himself—but he feels he’s developed a fondness for the whole ordeal of imparting knowledge to his younger servant. There’s just something about the way Jihoon tackles on new things presented to him, an innocence that fills him with pride for the other boy. He watches on as he swings again, sideways then overhead, slowly trying out different moves of attack.

And then it shifts; a movement so subtle that’s only apparent to him because he’s spent a good deal of practicing with swords his whole life. Daniel can see it in the way Jihoon adjusts his grip on the hilt, the way he lifts his arm on the next few swings he throws at Jaehwan. He’s quick to learn this than he thought, and Daniel feels a swell of that same pride washing over him.

That is until Jihoon shifts his movements again.

This time it’s not as subtle or privy to the eyes of an experienced swordsman. Daniel could easily bet everything he owns that what Jihoon does next is as distinguishable as seeing a banana on an apple cart. It’s in the way he suddenly holds himself, the way his feet come from just merely standing and stepping unrhythmically all over the place to suddenly positioning themselves to a basic stance for attack. The way his swings look a little smoother than every other one that came before it; the way the metal clangs just a tad bit louder with every hit he throws at his sparring partner.

Daniel can see Jaehwan noticing it too, when he suddenly shifts his position from a standing guard to a blocked defense. He still so easily parries every single hit Jihoon is giving him, but the speed of which he’s receiving them obviously surprises him.

Then Jihoon does it again, this time by letting his other hand fly off the hilt of the sword to come to rest on his back. Daniel gapes in surprise when he notices that he’s standing in the exact same way Jaehwan is, throwing a volley of swings that are getting more and more precise with every move.

The smile Daniel has on his face falls completely when Jihoon has progressed to moving forward with his hits. He’s actually lunging now, forcing Jaehwan to take a few steps back in sequence. He can feel the intensity of their skirmish, which by now is ever so slowly turning to look like a proper duel.

He starts to worry when he sees Jaehwan trying to turn the tables, going for the offense this time. Daniel almost gets up from his seat to stop them, but Jihoon just as easily blocks every attack like as if he  _ knows _ where they're going to land.

It comes to an unnerving end during one of Jaehwan's hard swings; the move he likes to use to disarm an opponent. He steps and slowly builds up on his stance, but at the last moment when he poses to hit with a final strike, instead of doing a parry like they all expect, Jihoon lets his sword and body flow with the force of Jaehwan's blow and pivots his foot to the side. He turns a full circle, spinning to the spot behind Jaehwan before he extends his arm with the sword landing just a few inches in front of his neck.

Daniel gets up from his seat then, if only as a surprised response. He stays rooted to his spot as he stares at Jihoon's perfect posture; his body poised with as much control and discipline to that of his opponent. Jaehwan is in a much similar state, eyes wide in shock and jaw hanging limply.

"H-how—"

"Jaehwan!" A high-pitched voice calls out near the entrance of the castle that snaps both duelists to break their pose. Sungwoon comes walking in not a beat later, giving the three of them—especially Jihoon—a look of surprise.

"What's going on?" He asks, noting the armaments on Jihoon’s body before directing the questioning look to Jaehwan.

"We were just teaching Jihoon how to use a sword.”

Sungwoon’s eyebrows shoot up, his gaze landing on Daniel now. “And you approve of this?”

“We were just having some fun Sungwoon. Don’t worry.”

“Until he gets hurt,” Sungwoon sighs, exasperatedly rubbing the bridge of his nose. Daniel wants to reassure him that there’s no way he’d even allow that to happen, even though he’s beginning to doubt whether Jihoon could actually even get hurt.

“Anyway.” Sungwoon turns to Jaehwan again, tilting his head to the general direction of the castle. “Play time’s over. Your father’s looking for you. We’re supposed to go over the roster of guards for next week.”

It’s at this point that Jaehwan usually lets out a sigh and complains about the menial tasks he has to do. There’s none of that now though, and instead just looks at Jihoon again then to him before nodding and following Sungwoon back inside.

When they’re left alone in the quiet nature of the courtyard, Daniel now makes his way over to Jihoon—slowly. He gives him a once over, frowning a little when his servant just continues to look at the ground in what he thinks is shame; a total opposite of the demeanor he had displayed seconds prior. When he finally comes to stand in front of him, he takes the sword out of his hands in a hard grip.

“You lied to me,” he says, earning him a look of panic. 

“Daniel—”

“You said you’ve never held a sword or have ever even seen one up close before you came here.” He tugs the binds that are holding the arm guards attached to his forearm, pulling it rather hard and letting the pieces of leather fall to the ground with an angry thud. 

“I wasn’t lying. I really never—”

“Then how do you explain what just happened?” He cuts him off, voice rising a little. He doesn’t even understand why he feels a little angry about it or why he feels a cold wave of betrayal, but the idea of Jihoon straight up lying to his face brings up a sour feeling from his gut that he can’t tamp down. 

“You executed your movements perfectly. You were so flawless in your swings that even Jaehwan lost to you. And on top of all that, you were even able to do the move I just used which took me months to master. So explain to me  _ how  _ in the world were you able to do all that if you’ve never held a sword before?”

Quite unsurprisingly, all he gets in answer is a shameful face and mouth-bitten silence. Daniel shakes his head, scoffing.

“I don’t like being lied to, Jihoon. Especially from the people I consider my friends.”

He sees Jihoon’s lip quiver, and if he didn’t know any better he’d say his eyes are even getting a little glassy. He stays mum though, and the disappointment that flows through his system overlaps anything else he’s feeling. He takes a step back, sighing.

“You’re relieved of your duties for today,” he starts to say, turning his back on him and facing the castle. “I’m meeting with another prince tomorrow so make sure you take Ori away from the throne room by morning.”

Daniel doesn’t wait for a response and just heads back inside, leaving Jihoon alone and telling himself in a repeated mantra that this doesn’t bother him at all.

  
  
  
  
  


He fails. Even after catching up with his readings on the philosophy book Jisung has tasked him to finish, having dinner with his father and talking about the next few princes and princesses that will be coming in the following weeks, and playing with Ori as he lounges on the sofa in his room, he’s  _ still  _ thinking about it.

He attributes the irritation to the fact that he’s grown quite close to his servant in the months that passed since he’s moved in here. He had been nice to him, defended him even, and taught him things a prince wouldn’t normally engage with his steward. So yes, he believes it’s perfectly reasonable for him to feel betrayed over the fact that Jihoon had kept something that seems trivial from him. 

Although...he also knows that it’s just a reasonable that he did. What are they to each other anyway, right? A prince and his personal servant, two people who spend a lot of time together because it’s what their duties place them on. Daniel knows that Jihoon doesn’t owe to tell him  _ everything  _ because they’re merely in a professional relationship, and at most, friends. And as much as he doesn’t like this line of thought, he has to admit that it really isn’t very fair of him to hold this resentment when he himself keeps things from Jihoon too.

Daniel runs a hand through his hair in frustration, just as a quiet knock on the door interrupts his thoughts. He knows who’s on the other side in an instant when Ori comes bounding to the door excitedly, her head turning to him as if to tell him to open the door. Daniel rolls his eyes, getting up from his recline.

“Come in.”

The door opens slowly, the eaves softly creaking as the person bombarding his mind walks in. Ori greets him by rubbing her head on his lap, and Daniel has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling at the image of the two of them. He’s supposed to be mad, he can’t smile.

“Can I help you?” He says rather coldly, getting him a sheepish look from his blonde visitor. 

“I, umm—can we talk?”

Daniel crosses his arms, frown unletting. “Depends on what you want to talk about." He knows he's behaving rather immaturely, but he can't help it. His emotions are steeping.

"It's...about earlier…"

"If you’re just going to lie and give me more excuses, then I’d much rather you leave and—”

“I’m an elf.”

That shuts him up, the words dying on the rim of his mouth. He stares back in confusion and surprise, looking at the way Jihoon bites his lips while his hands rub at Ori’s neck. Daniel scoffs out bitter chuckle.

“What?”

He watches the way Jihoon opens and closes his mouth in hesitation, looking as if what he just blurted out isn’t the most outrageous thing in the world. He had expected Jihoon to lie to him but  _ this  _ has got to be the most ridiculous attempt to it yet.

“The reason why I was able to use the sword like I did earlier—” Jihoon offers to explain, eyes low on the ground. “—is because I can...pick things up a lot faster than other people. I learn fast and...I don’t really know how it works either but I know I was able to do all that because I’ve been watching you do it for a while now.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense,” Daniel counters, shaking his head in disbelief. “The elves  _ died _ a long time ago. You weren’t even born yet when High Garden—”

He suddenly remembers that day in the library, when Jihoon had asked him about the elven kingdom on that history book. He hadn't really given it much thought but Daniel knows for a fact that jihoon hadn't known of their history until that very moment—the look he had on his face when he told him their history attested to that. But the way he had cried, the pain and surprise in his face was much too real to be anything else.

“You’re...from High Garden?” 

But Jihoon shakes his head, still not meeting his gaze. “My mother probably was. She and my father met outside of Maroowen while he was out travelling for trade. We...don’t really talk about it that much and I’ve always been a little shy to ask, but he told me that my mother was injured when they met. That’s why he brought her back here—to help her recover.”

It’s evident in the way Jihoon holds himself that he’s never talked about this with anyone before. Shoulders caving in on himself, his eyes barely moving from the ground; his voice coming out in weak whispers when he speaks.

“If I count back the years to when it was recorded that High Garden fell versus my age and the time my parents stayed together, they’d have met on the same year Calamity Magus happened.”

Daniel can’t believe his ears. Not in the sense that it feels like Jihoon’s lying again, but rather the very fact that an elven woman lived in this very kingdom. It’s something that’s so far-fetched and highly unbelievable until you find yourself standing in front of the living proof of that truth.

And Jihoon is here in testament to that. His bright blonde hair is one thing, but then there’s the fact of how he was even able to move so flawlessly earlier when he was sparring with Jaehwan. Then to his side is another mystery that’s always bugged him but now fits the puzzle he’s forming—Ori.

The last stranger to have ever come near Ori almost died from being mauled and yet Jihoon didn’t even get a single scratch on him when they first met all those nights ago. Daniel has read in books the tales of how elves allegedly had the ability to communicate with animals, which brings him to recall how Jihoon was whispering to his pet in the same way he does even up to now; an act that could easily be dismissed as animal-loving friendliness but now it all makes sense.

“Is your father an elf too?”

Jihoon shakes his head. “I’m only half an elf, actually.”

“What happened to your mother?” Daniel finds himself asking, although he regrets voicing out the curiosity when the sees the face Jihoon makes.

“She died...giving birth to me,” is all he says, solemn and weighted. “When I was old enough to know what I am, my father told me not to tell anyone. He said that not a lot of people would understand, or rather, wouldn’t  _ appreciate _ knowing that an elf is living among them.” Jihoon sighs, the kind Daniel is much too familiar with. The kind that’s telling of a burden one carries in secret. “That’s why I can’t enroll at the academy. My father has always feared that I might reveal myself because of the things I can do.”

Another piece of the puzzle that falls into place. He’s always been skeptical when Jihoon had told him that they couldn’t afford going to the academy because he knows for a fact that his father, the king, mandated low cost schooling all over the kingdom for even the poorest of families to have education. Now he understands. Jihoon would’ve had to play dumb his entire life in the academy if he didn’t want people to be suspicious of him.

“Why are you telling me this now?” Daniel asks him then, tone no longer holding a chill. “Your father’s right. There are people who don’t take to the existence of elves all too kindly. Ever since Calamity Magus, some people have resorted to branding your race as a bad omen.” He takes a few steps forward, closing in on Jihoon. “And yet here you are, telling the crowned prince of the kingdom your biggest secret, when you could’ve simply avoided this whole conversation by telling me that you’ve had sword lessons before. So why?”

Instead of backing down and cowering, Jihoon finally makes the move to look up at him and meet his gaze in sudden bravery. His eyes shimmer with the reflection of the dancing candlelight in his room, replicating the flame of resolve in them.

“Because I don’t like lying...especially to someone who I consider my friend.”

It knocks the breath out of him when the candor of Jihoon’s words sink in, and suddenly he’s back in that small, closed-off space that forms whenever he finds himself eye to eye with his servant. The kind of moment that vaguely reduces everything else around him to irrelevance, his focus only honing in on the person in front of him. He feels his breath stopping, hears his heartbeats beginning to echo inside his ears carrying with it a rush of warmth that spreads all the way to his fingertips.

He feels a rough, wet tongue slide on those fingers, and the moment is broken.

“Ori!”

The sabertooth purrs at him, and he can see Jihoon holding back a smile. “Ori says you’re being rude by staring too much.”

Daniel raises an eyebrow, huffing a breath of discontent. “Well, tell her she stares at me all the time and you don’t see  _ me _ licking her paws.”

The sound of Jihoon’s light chuckle brings him back, he feels his heart going soft again when he sees him scratching at the sabertooth’s ear. He places a hand on Jihoon’s shoulder then, taking his attention back.

“Thank you, for telling me,” he says, giving him a soft squeeze by the hand. “Your secret is safe with me. I promise.”

And when Jihoon smiles at him again with a softness that’s amplified by the warm light in his room and in the way his blonde hair falls to his eyes, Daniel knows for certain that this is a promise he will take with him to the grave, at whatever cost.

  
  
  
  
  


***

  
  
  
  
  


“The blueberry bushes bore fruit today, so I mixed them up with some oat grains, Prince Daniel.” Jinyoung tells him as he sits down at his usual breakfast table, Jihoon coming in close by to sit across from him.

“Thank you Jinyoung, this looks wonderful.”

They both bow to the young chef and proceed to start on their meal. Jaehwan is out again doing rounds outside the palace, so breakfast is a lot more quieter with only him and Jihoon at the table. He looks over at his companion, at the way he eats with class that fits the soft ivory tunic he’s wearing. Daniel smiles, swallowing before he speaks.

“So I’ve been thinking,” he starts, tearing Jihoon’s attention away from his wooden bowl. “Seeing as you’ve already mastered your table manners, what do you say we move on to teaching you something else?”

Jihoon blinks at him, his interest piqued. “Like what?”

“Well.” Daniel tilts his head, narrowing his eyes in thought. “I think the library books are providing you with enough academics as it is, and honestly I’m not really that good of a teacher when it comes to a classroom session.” He snorts, taking another bite of blueberry oats. “But I can teach you other things, stuff they probably don’t even teach over at the academy.”

He doesn't think he needs to wait for an answer, when the excited smile Jihoon gives him after he says that is a sure sign of his approval. He nods excitedly, and Daniel returns the gesture with a grin and a promise to start as soon as they finish Jinyoung’s delicious breakfast spread.

Which is how they find themselves later that day inside the main library, stood in the middle of the huge room with a stack of heavy, hardbound books on the table to the left of Daniel’s hip where his hand is resting over. 

"You're teaching me humanities?" Jihoon asks, eyeing the words on the covers. Daniel shakes his head, chuckling.

"I picked these because they’re the perfect-sized books for what we'll be working on today," he says, grabbing one from the stack and walking over to him. "Question. How can you tell if a person is a nobleman or a commoner?"

Jihoon does that thing with his mouth whenever he's pondering in thought, a slight outward jut of the lower lip that Daniel does his best not to stare at. 

“The way they dress?” 

“That’s one.” Daniel nods. “What else?”

Jihoon thinks again, and this time his eyes narrow while he gives Daniel a scrutinizing look. “The way they talk. Also the way they walk,” he answers, humming surely. “I remember the first time I met you back in my village. You stood out like a sore thumb even if you dressed funny.”

Daniel laughs through his nose, nodding again. “From what I’ve learned, anyone can dress into anything and have the world fooled. But the way people carry themselves—that’s another matter entirely.”

He takes the book he’s holding in his hand and proceeds to place it above his head then, perfectly centered and balanced right before he takes a couple of steps to the side and away from Jihoon. “Every esteemed person of status should know how to present themselves properly, be it in speech or in action.”

He skillfully turns, facing back at him with flawless grace before he walks again and continues to speak. “To a lot of people, it’s a way of distinguishing themselves from the majority. But I like to think of it as...a kind of example. I want people to look up to me, for them to feel that I respect them well enough that I go to the effort to hold myself in the best way that I can.”

Daniel walks back to him, the book on top of his head barely making a wobble the entire time. He takes in the impressed colors on Jihoon’s face as he picks up another book and hands it over to him. “Give it a try.”

Jihoon nods excitedly, his blonde hair shaking as he does. Daniel takes a few steps back again to give him some space and watches in amusement as Jihoon tries to balance the book on his head before starting to walk. He only gets two steps in before it falls to the floor.

“I’ll try again,” he says eagerly, immediately going down to pick it back up. Daniel walks back over to him, a hand going to his chin.

“Keep your head level, and your eyes forward.” He’s standing close—very close—in that he can feel the warmth emanating from Jihoon’s body with his hand alone. "Back straight, and walk with your hands on the side." 

He removes his hold on his chin and goes to put it on the small of Jihoon's back, softly pushing until his posture is erect. He straightens his shoulders next, his touches fleeting against the surface of his clothes. Lastly, he grabs the book and balances it on top of his head.

"Try again."

Not trusting himself to nod or even move an inch of muscle in his head, Jihoon merely starts taking a few steps forward. Although his footsteps are hesitant and slow, he gets a lot farther this time with only a mild shake to teeter the book he's balancing on his head. Daniel smiles, taking quick strides himself until he's stood in front of Jihoon—the sudden proximity startling him and causing the book the echo a thud on the floor.

"That's cheating," his servant says in pout, one that Daniel only chuckles at.

"Your posture should never falter, even in the most flustering situations."

"Who says I'm flustered?" Jihoon counters, taking a daring step forward that puts their faces a mere hairwidth apart. Daniel keeps his expression passive and his position in check—and he swears he makes no move whatsoever and has absolutely  _ no idea _ why the book on his own head falls next to his feet.

"Your posture should never falter, even in the most flustering situations," Jihoon repeats, his lips which are literally at a finger's reach are upturned in smugness.

Daniel reaches up to his face then, if only to flick a finger on his forehead.

"Don't sass your teacher,” Daniel says, smiling wryly when Jihoon pouts and rubs at his skin. “Try again.”

“I’ll get it this time,” he answers with confidence, picking his book back up and walking back to the spot they started at. Daniel follows his movements with his eyes, watching fondly as he tries to walk again.

“I know you will,” he mutters to himself, chuckling when Jihoon drops the book again.

It only takes a couple of hours on that very same day before his servant begins to walk like a highborn.

All in all, Daniel finds it immensely fascinating; the speed of which Jihoon learns everything he tries to teach him. He’s read about the history of the elven race in his primary history lessons quite a long time ago, but admittedly it’s never left any sort of impression on him because what was a fourteen year old kid to do with information about an extinct species?

_ Supposedly _ extinct, he corrects himself. Now he picks up the very same book again, reading about the lost people that disappeared from this world twenty five years ago as he watches in front of him the person who’s probably the last of his kind.

“You’re putting too much pressure on your quill, and too much ink. If you keep doing that, you’ll pierce your parchment.” Daniel tells him a few days later in the same library, where they’re sat side by side on one of the desks each with a quill in hand.

“My hand hurts,” Jihoon whines, his signature pout coming out. Daniel gives him a mocking eye roll before getting up from his seat and standing behind him.

“Here, follow my strokes.” He bends over, placing his hand above Jihoon’s and guiding his writing. “Your ink will flow regardless of how hard you press on your paper. So just be gentle, like this. Got it?” He looks over to his face then, seeing the obvious flush that’s beginning to climb up his neck.

“O-okay.” Jihoon clears his throat, straightening himself. Daniel chuckles at him.

“If you finish writing the alphabet perfectly today, I can proceed to teach you how to write letters. Who knows? Maybe one of our ravens could even fly to your house and leave a message to your father.”

Besides the enjoyment he feels in watching Jihoon’s extraordinary skills at learning, Daniel thinks nothing can still beat the delight and glee that sparkles in his eyes whenever motivation colors his features. 

He sees a lot more of that in his sword fighting lessons as well when he watches him practice with Jaehwan. After a quick white-lie to the young knight in telling that Jihoon has had a bit of sword training before, it’s easy enough to avoid the curious suspicions one would get when they see the blonde elf in action.

Jihoon is good. Really good, and dare he say might even be better than himself as he watches him and his knight spar in their favorite spot at the courtyard. Jaehwan has long since dropped the act of going easy on him and is now fighting to the best of his abilities. Instead of either of them feeling scorned at how Jihoon turns out to be a living prodigy, all that comes to them when they see his form and his stance, his swings and his parries—is a huge amount of pride.

“Your footwork is sloppy.” Jaehwan tells him when he manages to land his third hit to the side of Jihoon’s torso, both of them panting. “Whenever you go all out on your attack, you’re putting all your focus on your upper body and forgetting your feet. Your opponent could easily trip you if you don’t fix that.”

“His form is good though. You at least have to praise him for that, Jaehwan.” 

All three of them turn their heads so fast that Daniel thinks he feels a mild whiplash hitting him. His father is walking up to them, joining the two in the middle of the courtyard with his eyes specifically lingering on Jihoon. They both bow their heads in the king’s presence, muttering a greeting.

“I didn’t know we were teaching servants how to fight with swords these days,” the king says, and Daniel can see Jihoon shrinking in on himself.

“It was my idea, father. Jihoon had nothing—”

“Why am I not surprised.” The king turns to him then, and he’s surprised to see that he’s actually smiling. “If you’re just going to slack off there Daniel, I suggest for you to not get too complacent. From what I can see just now, Jihoon here could probably win in a duel against you.” 

Daniel bites his lip to hide his smile, not wanting to admit that what his father just said had already happened a few days ago.

“I’m impressed.” The king turns back to Jihoon, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Keep up the good work.” 

Jihoon’s eyes light up at that, the flush on his cheeks quite evident when he bows a full angle. “Yes, your majesty.”

When his father walks back inside the castle and Jaehwan does nothing but laugh at the bewildered expression on their blonde friend’s face, Daniel puts up the proud smile that’s been creeping up on him and lets himself be filled with a warm sensation that’s only brought by seeing Jihoon look like the happiest he’s ever been. He smiles wider when their eyes meet, and he tells himself that the warmth he feels has nothing to do with the way his heart is drumming so loudly in his ears.

  
  
  
  
  


_ “Have dinner with me.” _

Daniel brushes his hair down to fall over his forehead—before he pushes it back up again.

_ “W-what?” _

_ “Let’s put all your lessons to the test. Have dinner with me.” _

He puffs out an exasperated breath for the fourth time in front of the mirror, ruffling his hair in an even messier state than it was when he started. 

_ “Tomorrow night. I’ll have Daehwi and Sungwoon prepare. Just meet me by the grand staircase after sundown.” _

He hangs his head in defeat, succumbing to the reprimandations of his thoughts by way of reminder; the moment of yesterday afternoon playing in his head on loop with a stark fixation on how Jihoon had turned red at his invitation.

He doesn’t even know what he was thinking—or  _ if _ he was even thinking, for that matter. They were at the library, Jihoon balancing three books on his head and walking in circles while he had watched from the side. Thinking it fun, he had sneakily tried to approach him in pretty much the same way he did on the first day of his lessons to startle him out of balance. The difference in that moment though, Jihoon had expected it—and had turned around just in time that ended with him being on the receiving end of the surprise. 

Jihoon had stood so close to him again, face so near that the words just tripped out of Daniel’s mouth without any warning.

_ “Have dinner with me.” _

Now he looks back at his reflection, to his dark brown hair all fussed up that puts the bright yellow regalia that Daewhi had picked for him to shame. He turns to the side, over to the spot where his sabertooth tiger stares at him with disinterest.

“What? I’m not nervous okay. I’ve had dinner dates with plenty of people before. This is just Jihoon. Why would I be nervous?”

Ori just snorts at him, sounding out a derisive purr that could very well translate into an eye roll. Daniel attempts to tame his hair again, ultimately just deciding to part it on the side and let his fringe fall smoothly. He fixes the overcoat of his tunic, smoothing out the silken yellow fabric and feeling the bumps of the gold threads on the tip of his fingers. He supposes he’s quite lucky that Daehwi had merely passed him his clothes for tonight. He remembers the wicked look he got when he had told him to plan the dinner with Sungwoon and he can only hope that Jihoon survives whatever the Master of Wardrobe is doing to him right now.

“How do I look?” Daniel turns to Ori again, raising his hands and even twirling in his attire. Ori keeps her steely gaze, tips her head forward as if she’s nodding. He takes one last look in the mirror, before he lets out a heavy sigh and makes his way out of his room.

The grand staircase is surprisingly bright when he gets there. Normally they only light a few candelabra to provide the foyer with enough light to see in, but tonight Daniel sees that every wick that’s set on the overhead chandeliers is bright and burning.

He makes his way down the base of the stairs to where Sungwoon is waiting, giving him a curious arch of an eyebrow when he reaches. 

“Daehwi said we should light them up. Said that the clothes he picks deserve to be seen under the best ambiance.” Sungwoon explains, rolling his eyes. “I’m glad I agreed with him though. You look dashing.”

“It’s just dinner, Sungwoon.” He tells him, repeating what he’s been telling himself for the past hour. “And it’s just Jihoon. We’re practically just eating together.”

“Then I guess I should speak my apologies now,” Sungwoon says, face contorting in a held-back smile. “If you punish me, just know that this was all Daehwi’s idea. I just helped.”

Daniel frowns, rearing in confusion. “What are talking abo—”

He’s cut off by someone clearing their throat rather loudly up on the first landing of the grand staircase. He and Sungwoon both look up at the same time to see the devil himself, smiling pompously in his red velvet garb. Daehwi gestures to his right when he speaks, his tone filled with pride and that could only come from one thing.

“Gentlemen. May I present to you, Park Jihoon.”

Daniel doesn’t see him right way when some of the sculptures and ornaments from the staircase blocks the angle of his view. A flash of blue and the unmistakable shade of blonde is all he gets, which all but delivers the blow to him in a punch so hard that his breath, along with every ounce of his nervousness, gets completely knocked out of him when the person in question finally stands under the light.

A striking shade of blue— _ azure _ —fills the entirety of Daniel’s vision when he looks up at Jihoon; the color filling the resplendent suit of his raiments and the tie of a ribbon bowed perfectly over his collar. It’s all dazzling and elegant, working in impeccable harmony with the shade of his bright blonde hair. What is usually bushy and fluffed is now parted and combed to fall delicately in layers over his head, forming a slight fringe to one side of his face. Jihoon meets his eyes then and he smiles, and Daniel thinks what he sees couldn’t possibly get any better.

But it does, and he’s proven wrong once Jihoon begins making his way down the stairs to him.  _ Now _ Daniel understands why Daehwi had requested to light up the entire foyer, because in even the slightest of movements and shifts in his body, Jihoon literally gleams and twinkles under the lights. His way down reveals the subtle embroideries of intricate vines and flowers stitched along the hem of his suit in gold thread, all glittering in the same way as the fine gold dust speckling his hair.

"What do you think?" Jihoon whispers when he finally reaches him, standing close enough for Daniel to smell the sweet scent of peaches coming off his body. At this distance, he can see that the gold glitters don't stop on the strands of his hair in that they continue along his skin; a few above his eyes and at the base of his neck. Daniel has heard read of accounts describing the appearance of elves, but it's not until this very moment that he finally understands the true meaning of the words used to describe them. 

"You look handsome," Daniel tells him, glad his voice manages to hold some semblance of control. 

"Daehwi did all the work. I just stood there," Jihoon says sheepishly, the subtle flushing of his skin accentuating his overall appearance.

“Doesn't make the fact any less true.” He shrugs right before offering him his arm. “Shall we?”

Jihoon nods and takes it into hold, and Daniel allows himself to feel the light flutter in his stomach as they make their way to the dining room.

From the get go, Daniel is already beginning to understand what Sungwoon had meant earlier now that they’re here. They’ve prepared the use of one of the smaller dining rooms in the castle, just like he had requested, but he can clearly see that the staff didn’t hold back on anything. The decorations and furnishings are toned to match their suits of royal blues and golds; from the table mantle and seat cushions down to the flowers on the vases in and around the room. He scoffs a little to himself, but the feeling is immediately replaced with gratitude once he sees the expression Jihoon is sporting over the whole ordeal.

“I’ve never dined in anything so...extravagant before,” he says once they’re finally sat down across from each other. One of the servants enter not soon after carrying their vegetable entrèes—Daniel’s made sure not to include meat in the menu tonight. 

“What better way to put what you’ve learned to the test, right?”

“Still—” Jihoon pulls his lips taut in a shy smile. “—it feels kind of weird to be on the receiving end when I’m usually the one serving.”

Daniel returns his smile then, hoping it comes off as warm as he’s feeling. “I asked my friend Jihoon to have dinner with me tonight, not my servant,” he says in earnest. “Think of it as...me returning the favor. For when you treated me to lunch that day back in your village.”

It’s a good enough sentiment to relax him, and Daniel’s glad when he eventually nods and begins with his meal. “Does this mean I have freedom to ask for extra dessert forks if I feel like it?”

“By all means.” Daniel nods, a laugh in his words. “Request to change your butter knife too, while you’re at it. We can’t be eating bread with a butter knife. How absurd.”

It’s light and weightless, the laugh that comes out of Jihoon then. The kind that gets him to cover his mouth on instinct that’s as contagious as his smile. Apart from how lavish they’re dressed tonight along with the grandiosity of the setup of their surroundings, Daniel doesn’t feel any discernible difference from the time he ate with Jihoon outside the castle nor from the breakfast they share everyday in the kitchens. It’s as simple as it can get with him, and he has no doubt in his head when he thinks this is the first time he’s probably enjoyed a dinner date.

When the course of their meals have passed and they both had finished their desserts—now merely engaged in a comfortable conversation about some forest south of Maroowen that Jihoon frequents before—Sungwoon enters the dining room and bows to the both of them.

“I hope you enjoyed your meal,” he says, smiling wantonly. “But I’m afraid I may have to apologize in advance again.”

Daniel raises an eyebrow, exchanging a look with Jihoon before turning back to the Chamberlain.

“What for?”

“The staff and I have prepared...a little something. And as a disclaimer, this time it’s  _ my  _ idea. Not Daehwi’s.” Sungwoon chuckles, gesturing through the door. “If you would please follow me.”

Daniel exchanges a glance with Jihoon again and just shrugs at the request. They rise then, following Sungwoon out of the room and down a lit hall. It’s only when they make a turn to the left that he finally guesses what’s happening and where they’re being led to. If he’s right with his guess, he can’t say he’s too opposed.

“I even brought in the Sonyeondan bards tonight,” Sungwoon tells him specifically, much to Jihoon’s confusion. They stop in front of a familiar set of double doors that Sungwoon opens up for them, revealing the large, spacious room.

“Wow.” He hears Jihoon mutter from beside him as they walk inside. Daniel’s been here his whole life so it’s really nothing new to him, but he tries nonetheless to look at it from his friend’s perspective. Taking in the grandness of the painted marble floor that’s starkly ornate as compared to the ones in the hallways; the multiple chandeliers overhead that are expertly lit to bring in just the right amount of light; to the tapestries that hang on the walls and pillars, holding the intricately embroidered crest of his family.

“You’ve never stepped in here before?” Daniel asks him once they finally reach the center of the room, enjoying the wonderstruck gaze Jihoon is sporting.

“I guess there’s still a lot about the castle I don’t know about,” he says, shaking his head while his eyes still graze over every detail of the place. “What’s this room for?”

Just then Daniel can hear Sungwoon stepping back and away from them discreetly, whispering off to the side away from the light. The bards must probably be here. “It’s the castle ballroom,” he answers Jihoon, taking a few steps closer. “We mostly use it for huge parties or galas. We celebrate the holidays here too.”

Jihoon finally stops his turning, seemingly satisfied yet still in awe. “It’s really beautiful.”

Daniel smiles, nodding slightly. “But I guess a ballroom’s most basic function is...well, to dance on.” He finally takes all the steps leading to him, stopping just at arm’s length. He extends one forward, his palm facing up. “It’d be a shame to waste all the effort everyone put into tonight so...would you like to dance with me, Jihoon?”

An unexpected question, marked by the few seconds that pass where all Jihoon does is stare at him and at the hand he has offered in bewilderment. The mute response happens long enough for Daniel to plant doubt in himself and slowly lower his advance. As he does though, Jihoon takes his hand in a panic.

“Don’t—” Jihoon starts frantically, his breath hitching. “I-it’s not that I don’t want to, Daniel. I just…” He bites his lips, the worried frown he has on making his eyes shimmer. “I don’t know how.”

It brings back a bit of his confidence at least, enough for him to let out a chuckle as he tightens his hold around Jihoon’s hand. 

“When’s a better time to teach you than now?” Daniel says with a slight smirk, softly pulling Jihoon towards him and placing the hand he’s holding on his upper arm. He uses the motion to press their bodies together, placing his hand on the space behind Jihoon’s back that’s just below his shoulder.

“Just follow my lead, okay?” He says softly. Almost immediately, the music starts playing from one side of the room and they begin to move.

Daniel starts out slow first, letting Jihoon get a feel of the steps while they follow the soft rhythm of the harp and viola playing the beginnings of their song. Despite his calm demeanor though, Daniel’s heart is beating at a pace that’s the exact opposite of what they’re taking, but he doesn’t let it overcome him— doesn’t let it falter his movements and the steady sway they're making on the ornate dance floor.

"Keep your eyes up," he says, getting his partner's attention until their gazes meet. "Try to relax and just go with the music. It helps to count your steps too."

Jihoon nods, his head instinctively going down again to look at their feet. Daniel frees one of his hands for a moment, using it to tip his chin up.

His body feels stiff and rigid against his own, footsteps seemingly afraid and hesitant. Daniel tries to bring a calm by soothing his back and mouthing 'one, two, three' in time with their movements. Unsurprisingly though, and with Jihoon being the kind of person that he is, it doesn't take more than a couple of steps before his body finally finds the rhythm of their waltz.

Daniel leads them to more deliberate steps then, longer strides that take them in a circle around the ballroom without Jihoon missing a beat. He lets himself relax now and enjoy the fluidity of their motion—the proximity of their bodies—and losing himself to the way they move in harmony with the melody.

The song of the seven bards pick up, adding more strings along with the base of a piano to bring their dance to a new height. He lets go of Jihoon's body for a second, releasing him in an outward spin before he catches him back in his arms in a flawless swerve that gets him an astounded expression of awe. Daniel pulls it off again, and then another—surprising his partner on the last by snaking his arm around his waist and at the last catch and pressing him close to lift him up in the air in a full turn.

Jihoon's grinning from ear to ear in radiance, one that Daniel feels is greatly mirroring his own expression. With his emotions heightened along with the rising notes of the violas echoing around the room, he can very well feel the subtle shift in their dynamic. It’s a very little change; quite small, to say the least, but Jihoon is taking surer steps on the polished floor, slowly yet confidently matching his lead until it starts to feel like he's directing the routine with him. 

Jihoon smiles with courage when he manages to take Daniel in a spin too, maneuvering him this way and that in a graceful display of quickly-learned choreography; ever the surprise that never fails to take his breath away.

When the song finally starts its slow descent to its end, their waltz evenly matches the waning rhythm with the two of them circling each other in an unbreaking gaze. Daniel is only vaguely aware that their chests are now flush against each other by the time the harp is playing the last few notes of its song; his heart beating steadily and heavily against Jihoon's.

Their eyes never leave each other, even when the music has stopped and the lights have somehow dimmed. Both transfixed in the moment that’s not unlike all the times Daniel has found himself in the past couple of weeks. Jihoon doesn't shy away when he attempts to bring him closer, doesn't shake in doubt when he begins to lean a little forward. His senses are overwhelmed by something ethereal when he feels no restraint or hesitation coming from his partner, and he doesn't think about much of anything else when his face comes only a few centimeters away. He feels his eyelids closing in seeing Jihoon do the same, anticipating the brush of another pair of lips against his own and—

A clap.

It echoes across the ballroom in a loud burst of sound that makes the both of them jump.

Another—and they both turn to their right to see Jaehwan walking briskly in their direction. The moment is gone, and Jihoon is the first to let him go.

"Well don't you two look swell," Jaehwan says dryly, in a tone Daniel's not a stranger to. Sungwoon and Daehwi are walking towards them now too, and the looks on their faces tell him that they have no clue how the young knight got here.

"Sungwoon, I suggest you go ask the servants to clean up the west dining hall lest anyone who doesn’t know sees and asks what happened there tonight," Jaehwan says sternly, an authoritative aura clouding his voice. "And bring Jihoon with you. It's his job to clean up after the prince, after all."

"Jaehwan—"

"That's an order."

A quiet stare down between the two ensues, one that only ceases when Jihoon bows and mutters an apology right before he turns to leave the ballroom. Sungwoon snorts at the knight, following behind the blonde.

"As for you Daehwi, make sure the Sonyeondan bards leave the palace by the next hour. Otherwise I'll call the guards to have them escorted out myself."

There isn't a snarky remark or a pounce of sass that's usually present in the Master of Wardorbe's demeanor. Instead, Daehwi just walks away in a flourish, loudly banging the doors shut on his way out with the bards.

They're alone now, and Jaehwan doesn't waste a single second more.

"What the hell was that?" He turns to him, the question sounding more like an exclaimed reaction rather than an honest inquiry. Daniel can feel himself sighing.

“I was just teaching him how to dance Jaehwan.”

“Really, now.” The young knight scoffs, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Dressed like that? After having a private dinner that you neglected to tell anyone else about?”

“It’s just dinner, Jaehwan. And it’s just Jihoon. It’s not a big deal.”

“It probably isn’t, not by all accounts,” he says flatly, no hint of humor in his voice. “But tell me, Daniel. Would you still be saying the same if I hadn’t stepped in to interrupt your attempt to kiss him just now?”

Daniel turns to face him, matching the scowl he best friend has on. He bites the inside of his cheek, shaking his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Just as he’s about to turn and head the other way, Jahwan takes a hold of his arm and yanks him back to face him. “Don’t play dumb with me,” he says, a quiver in his voice. “Do you take me for a fool? Do you think I don’t notice the way you look at him lately? How close you two are getting? Or the fact that you spend most of your days holed up with him inside the main library doing God knows what?”

“If you’re going to say something then just say it, Jaehwan.” Daniel jerks his hand back, almost growling out his words. To his surprise, his best friend suddenly relents, sighing.

“I’m not trying to be the villain here, and you know I would never get in the way between you two if I didn’t think it necessary.” Jaehwan starts to say, his tone softening. “Jihoon’s a good person.  _ You’re _ a good person. I just don’t want either of you getting hurt when things don’t work out the way you want them to.”

The words hit him like a strike from a blunt sword that all but takes the words he had wanted to say out of his mouth. He has nothing to say to that so he looks down and bites his lips instead, holding his breath in his lungs.

“You know why it can’t work, Daniel. And you know what’s at stake here. Don’t make this any harder than it already is.”

When Jaehwan starts to finally walk away and he’s left alone inside the beautiful ballroom, Daniel lets out a heavy sigh and runs his fingers through his hair in frustration. He laments for the night that could've ended perfectly, for the effort everyone had put into making this something special. He laments for what could’ve been if only things weren’t so complicated.

Not for the first time, he wishes he was never born a prince in the first place.


	7. A Royal Secret

The butterflies are still in his stomach, fluttering madly even after he wakes up the following morning. Jihoon bites his lips to keep himself from smiling too big, but ends up failing when the grin breaks out at just the thought of everything that had happened the night before. He smothers his face in his own pillow, shaking his legs in an attempt to let loose some of the manic energy coursing through his body. Sure it probably ended a little sour when Jaehwan caught him and Daniel in the ballroom just before they—Jihoon doesn’t even  _ dare _ go there—but everything else that happened in between is still enough to have him over the moon.

He draws the curtains on his window to let the early lights of sunrise in, opening his closet to get ready for the day but not without running his hands first on the blue suit he had worn last night. Daehwi had been kind enough to actually give it to him, and although he’ll probably never get the chance to actually wear it again, the memory it holds is still something that’s just as precious.

There’s a skip in his step as he makes his way down to Daniel’s chambers like he always does in the morning. He tries to keep himself in check, holding back whatever it is that wants to spring out of his chest to keep some semblance of posture and discipline. He reaches the door to his bedroom to come and stand in wait beside it like usual, but he stops when he sees Jaehwan walking in from the other end of the hall.

“Good morning,” he greets the young knight casually but bows his head a little in respect, hoping that things aren’t awkward between them considering what happened the night before.

“You’re free of your duties today, Jihoon. You don’t have to wait for Daniel,” Jaehwan says, rather monotonously. So much for steering clear of awkwardness.

“Oh, umm—I think I should still wait for him to—”

“He’s not in there.” Jaehwan says, pointing at the bedroom doors with his chin. Jihoon blinks a little in confusion, hesitating.

“Umm, where is he then?”

He doesn’t get an answer right away, and it looks as if Jaehwan is considering whether to even tell him or not. He sighs at the last moment though, and starts to turn and head forth to where he was originally going to.

“Let’s just say he’s out doing what he was doing when you two first met,” is all he says before he starts walking away.

Jihoon doesn’t need to think twice on the matter, even though it comes as a surprise to him that Jaehwan knows about that. The fact doesn’t linger in his mind too long because there’s a different and much more prominent feeling that’s demanding to be felt above all else. He knows he’s being a little petty, and that he probably has no right to feel this way either. But regardless of those facts, he can’t help but feel a little hurt that Daniel didn’t tell him he was sneaking out of the castle, when all this time he had thought that he was the only person who knew about it. 

Whatever lightness and fluttering he had felt since he woke up is effectively squashed by a huge rock dropping to the pit of his stomach, and he tries his best not to look to defeated when he walks away from the prince’s bedroom.

Jihoon eats breakfast alone for the first time in the longest while, and he spends a good chunk of the morning just aimlessly walking with Ori around the palace grounds. When the noon time sun hits the peak of the sky and it’s become too hot to stay outside for even more than an hour, he heads to the main library like he usually does on days he’s free.

What’s unusual though is that no matter how many books he tries to open in his time there, nothing seems to penetrate the layer of clouded thought in his mind that’s stuck thinking about Daniel. He wonders where he is right now, to which part of the kingdom he went to this time. If he went to see Peter and Rooney again or if he has more stray cats he’s friends with in the other villages; if he had remembered to bring some money this time to buy them food. The questions conjuring in his mind don’t stop and the energy he’s giving into thinking about it all is leading him down a hole he doesn’t even notice he’s falling to.

Why didn’t Daniel tell him he was going out today and why does it feel like he’s being left out? Is he avoiding him? Was it about last night? Had Jihoon overstepped some kind of boundary when he started leaning in to a gesture he had thought was mutual? Does Daniel regret it?

Suffice to say, he doesn’t really get that much reading done, and the only productive thing that he does all afternoon is clean up the place and rearrange a few books back to their respective shelves. He’s never felt so restless before and he doesn’t think he’s ever been more glad to leave the library when the sun finally starts to set.

Jihoon decides then to make his way to the central dining room to see if he can maybe give a hand to help out at dinner to give him something to do. He takes the longer route out of the east wing of the castle to kill his time, and he's not sure if he ought to even be surprised when he finally gets to where he's going. He is though—seeing Daniel for the first time since waking up today and sitting there beside his father on the table is suddenly making his heart race for reasons he can't discern.

"Jihoon," he heads Sungwoon's voice to his right, and he bows his head a little in greeting. "Are you on dinner duty tonight?"

"Ah, no but—" He thinks he sees Daniel turn his head a little in the direction of his voice, though he isn't too sure. "—I'm not really doing anything. I thought maybe I could help out."

Sungwoon just gives him a fond look before shaking his head in wonder. "Always so hard working," he says in a light chuckle. "Alright. You can go ahead and pour in the drinks first. The others are still rolling the food from the kitchen."

Jihoon nods in earnest, making himself useful and getting busy. When he walks out to the dining room, sees that Jaehwan and his father is here as well. No one looks at him or pays him any mind—not even Daniel, he notes—even when he starts pouring them their drinks. They're all caught up in discussion about some kind of gathering that’s happening soon that Jihoon can't really keep up on, and it's only when he's pouring at the cup of the king that his presence is acknowledged.

"Ah, Jihoon," the king says when he looks at him, turning to his left over to the kingsguard. "Haejun, this is the boy I was telling you about. The prodigy."

He almost spills the contents of his pitcher jug at the mention of that, but he bites his lips and keeps himself together.

"I saw him sparring with Jaehwan the other day," the king continues, gesturing to him then to the knight and the prince. "I got to say, he could very well give these two a run for their money."

Everyone in the room then turns their attention to him, and he can feel his face heat up when his eyes meet Daniel's for a split second. He looks down in shyness, not really knowing how to respond.

"I guess I'll have to see him in action for myself then," the kingsguard says, directing a smile to him. "How long have you been dabbing at swords, Jihoon?"

The honest answer rushes to the tip of his tongue, but he reminds himself of the lie Daniel had crafted for this particular topic.

"A little over a year, sir. I have never really had proper sword training until Ser Jaehwan started training me."

The kingsguard gives him a nod, but before anyone can ask any more questions, a few of the other servants start coming in with the food for the table. Jihoon bows gracefully to excuse himself, but not before his eyes steal a glance to the prince over at the other end of the table. He's looking at him, but even though his gaze is directed at him, Jihoon feels nothing but a coldness in his usually ardent orbs. There's none of the same pride he had showed that night when he was doing well in serving his dinner with the princess, no hidden smiles that communicate a personal message, and no warmth or even a hint of acknowledgment for what they shared last night.

When Jihoon heads back to the wait station, he forces himself to focus on the task at hand and pretend that he doesn't feel like he's burning from the inside out. 

  
  
  
  
  


***

  
  
  
  
  


“Since it’s almost the end of the season, I suggest we go for a mix of autumn and winter.”

“How about blue then?”

“We used blue in the last party.” Daehwi huffs a breath, and Jihoon watches as he goes over to one of the racks that line the expanse of the room. Sungwoon taps his foot a little impatiently from beside him, muttering under his breath for only Jihoon to hear.

“Remind me never to get Daehwi’s approval for color themes on the next party.”

“I heard that!” Daehwi yells from where he’s lost in the forest of clothes and fabrics. Jihoon chuckles a little, nodding to the Chamberlain.

“I got it!” Daehwi says a second later, coming back out to the center of the room and holding two suits in his hands. “Mahogany and silver!”

Jihoon can see Sungwoon rolling his eyes, but nodding in agreement anyway. “I’ll have the ballroom ready with that then.”

“Make sure to use the darkest shade for the dining tables,” Daehwi reminds him, already rushing off to the next rack of fabrics. “And put out as much silverware as you can.”

“Aye, aye captain.” Sungwoon gives a mock salute and turns to Jihoon before leaving the room. "I think Daehwi will probably need more of your help than me today, so I guess you better stay here with him in case he needs something."

"Lord Sungwoon, I'm flattered," Daehwi calls out from the side, already having collected a mound of garments in his arm.

"Just make sure you send him back to me before the party starts. I need to brief him with the other servers for tonight," Sungwoon tells him, patting Jihoon on the shoulder and finally stepping out the door.

Daehwi is still collecting garments on him when Jihoon makes his way over, offering a hand to help. “Don’t worry I got this,” he says reassuringly, tilting his head over to the other side of the room. “Why don’t you help me find an outfit for the prince tonight? His rack is over there just behind the one on the left. Just find him a suit that’s in the color theme I mentioned.”

Jihoon nods, turning to walk over to the other end of the room. He’s seen Daehwi picking clothes from this rack on the mornings he’s tasked to bring the garments to Daniel’s room so Jihoon’s more or less familiar with the layout here. He sees some of the tunics he’s worn before as he pilfers through the folded garments on the shelf, keeping an eye out for anything he that could be used. 

He pulls out one in mahogany, but Jihoon can already tell that the suit wouldn’t make Daniel stand out as much as actually blend in. He digs through a few more suits and tunics before he finally pulls out an ivory-silver ensemble that he thinks will look nice. He gives it a nod of approval, turning to head back to Daehwi when something suddenly catches his attention—a flash of bright yellow that sits atop one of the layers of folded tunics.

Jihoon comes nearer, staring at the garment longingly and at the fine details embroidered on the piece. He runs a finger through the fabric, recalling the memory of what it felt like under his touch when Daniel had worn this; of how smooth and taut it had been in his body when they were dancing around the ballroom. Jihoon has tried not to think of that night for a while now, feeling as if it was just some sort of dream that his mind had vividly made up. But physical reminders like this bring him back without warning, telling of what’s happened in reality.

“Everything okay?”

Daehwi’s voice snaps him out of his daze, and he immediately pulls his hand back from the yellow tunic to turn to him. It’s too late though when it’s obvious that the Master of Wardrobe had seen what he was doing; the concerned expression on his face is proof enough.

“Y-yeah. Umm—sorry, I got distracted,” Jihoon says, holding up the silver suit in his hands. “I found this though. Will this be okay for the party?”

Daehwi goes back to being all professional and takes the garment from his hands to inspect it. He uses the small burst of pride he feels when he’s given a nod and a smile of approval to distract himself from the lingering feelings of his sudden flashback just now.

“It’s perfect! I’m impressed,” Daehwi says, giving it a few turns. “It’s much too small though. I think the last time Daniel wore this was two years ago. I’m going to have to do some size alterations if we’re using it for tonight.”

Jihoon follows him back to his desk in the middle of the room were he starts to rummage in his drawers, pulling out a few spun strings and placing it on the table. Jihoon smiles a little to himself at the familiar image, suddenly missing a particular work room full of tattered fabrics and loose threads on the floor

“I don’t think my measurements for the prince are up to date. Knowing him, his shoulders have probably grown twice in size since he last wore this suit,” Daehwi says, affixing one of the measuring strings on the garment. “I’m going to have to take new ones.”

“Oh, I can help with that.” Jihoon smiles, raising a hand. “I used to take clothes measurements for my father’s clients all the time back in my village. He’s a tailor, you see.”

Daehwi raises an eyebrow in question, mildly surprised. “I guess that explains why you have such good taste,” he says, smiling widely. He’s about to hand him over the measuring strings, but hesitates at the last second.

“Are you sure? I mean, I can go do it myself. I’m sure I can squeeze in the time.”

The same look of concern from earlier is back, and it hits at something sore in the middle of Jihoon’s chest that he doesn’t want to revisit. The fact that Daehwi is hesitating in bringing him to Daniel means that whatever he’s thinking isn’t all just in his head, and that there really  _ is  _ something about them. He bites his lips, nodding once before braving out a smile.

“You still have a lot to do. I’m sure I can handle taking a few measurements.” He can handle confronting Daniel too, is what he means, although that part is something that can be left unsaid. Daehwi doesn’t take that long to consider, because he actually  _ does _ have a lot to do. 

“Okay.” He passes the measuring strings to Jihoon now, giving him a small smile. “Pass them back to me as soon as you’re done. I’ll work on finishing the suit before the party tonight.”

Overall it’s as good an excuse as any to finally force himself to actually talk to the prince. What he has to say and whatever it is exactly he wants to get out of in doing so, he’s not entirely sure. All he knows is that whatever problem Daniel has with him is something he thinks has a right to know, considering the fact that they’re supposed to be friends. 

It’s this self-imposed pep talk that gives him the courage to knock on the prince’s bedroom doors without hesitation a few short minutes later. He tries to hold on to this false sense of bravery even after he hears Daniel say ‘come in’, and well after he opens the door to the threshold and closes it behind him.

To say that the prince is surprised is an understatement, when he gets up from his writing desk and sees who it is that came to see him. Jihoon bites the inside of his cheek, fighting to keep a straight face on when he bows.

“Oh...Jihoon. I, uhh—I wasn’t expecting you,” Daniel says, his usually confident voice marred with hesitation. “Can I help you?”

He bites his tongue to keep the immediate—and rather disrespectful—answer from coming out, and merely raises his hands to show him the tools he’s brought. “Daehwi asked me to take your measurements. It’s for your attire for tonight’s party.”

“Oh,” Daniel says, his tone a mixture of relief and—Jihoon thinks it’s disappointment, as if he had been expecting something else. “Right. Of course.”

He makes his way over to the middle of the room and Jihoon wastes no time to follow. He places a few strings to the table near him, going over to walk behind the prince to start his measurements. It’s an easy enough task, one that Jihoon has done plenty of in the past that it becomes somewhat of a secondary nature; a task so mindless that he could probably do it with his eyes closed.

There is absolutely no valid excuse as to why he stutters in his movements, drops his measuring string a few times, and do every measurement of Daniel’s body twice to make sure he’s not making mistakes. It gets even worse when he next has to take his measures on the front of Daniel’s bodice, when he has to stand so near in front of him in a similar fashion. 

Jihoon walks around him slowly, doing his best not to make eye contact. He can feel his nerves constricting his throat, making it a little hard to breathe and think clearly. He bends down a little as he makes marks on the length of his torso and on his sleeves, noticing for the first time then that his fingers are slightly shaking. He bites his lower lip, forcing it into his brain to get a hold of itself.

He finally meets the prince’s eyes when he rises again, and he swears that he feels his heart lurch during that small window right before they both avert their gazes to somewhere else. He tries to take a silent breath before slowly reaching up to loop the string around his neck to measuring his collar, and it’s during this instance that he takes notice of two things in the span of a few seconds. For one, Daniel feels stiff and just a tense as he probably is being under his touch; muscles hard and rigid over where his hands come in contact with his skin. It’s somewhat of a comfort, although by no means less awkward, to know that he’s not alone in feeling like a complete loon in this entire ordeal. 

The other thing he notices, which comes as quite a surprise to him, is when his eyes land on the space between Daniel’s neck and chest where his collarbones sit. The beginnings—or perhaps the ends—of a stark, black tattoo peek just beneath the collar of his shirt. He vaguely remembers seeing it before, but being this close to him now jostles any capability his mind has of pulling out the memory from his mind. He only snaps out of it when Daniel clears his throat, and he’s forced back to the task at hand.

“Okay. I’m done,” Jihoon says after a while, the first words to come out from either of them since starting this whole thing. He steps back from Daniel, and the space he gets to finally breathe in only then makes him realize that he’s blunderingly failed at making any sort of conversation with the prince.

“Is that all?” Daniel asks when he’s just stood there, staring into space. There’s a sharp sting on the left side of his chest again, a sensation that forces him to nod and bow and turn back to the door.

His hand is already on the handle when he stops himself, a surge of unfounded courage suddenly coursing through him that makes him decide to just bite the rope. He sharply turns back around to see the prince still rooted on the same spot, his eyes moving and widening a little in a silent question.

“I’m sorry,” Jihoon says, voice too deep and low but loud enough for Daniel to hear. “If I’ve overstepped my boundaries...or if I’ve offended you in any way—I want you to know that I’m sorry, Daniel. I’ll forget everything about that night from ever happening if that’s what you want, but please just—” He bites down his lower lip, eyes falling to the ground in a quiver. He sighs.

“I’m sorry.” Jihoon repeats, nodding once before he turns again and steps out of the room; wiping the one stray tear that escapes his eyes while he makes his way back to Daehwi’s chambers.

  
  
  
  
  


***

  
  
  
  
  


As it turns out, the royal families of the two neighboring kingdoms to the south of Maroowen are the main reason for tonight’s festivities. Jihoon has never seen the castle so full of people that it actually feels a little overwhelming. Besides the visiting families and their rather large entourage, there are a number of servants whose faces he’s never even seen before; bards and minstrels performing in the background of different rooms, and more than enough nobles who he presumes reside in the village near the castle to fill the entire ballroom.

The air is alive and buzzing, with a hundred different conversations happening on whichever direction he turns his head to. Currently he’s stood beside one of the tapestry-draped columns that’s situated near the side of the room and being inconspicuous while simultaneously staying near his charge—Daniel is a little ways off to his right, conversing with three flamboyant ladies who Jihoon has come to know are the daughters of one of the visiting kings. 

“Oh, come on Prince Daniel! Don’t you remember how much fun we had on the last party?” One of them says in a giggle, a delicate hand playfully slapping at Daniel’s chest.

“Sister is right, my dear prince. Oh, I can still remember how  _ good _ it all felt. Don’t you?” Another one says, the lady that’s currently draped all over Daniel’s left bicep.

“We can even invite Ser Jaehwan. Wouldn’t that be all the more splendid girls?”

Jihoon wants to throw up, and he thinks he almost does a little in his mouth when he hears another round of ill-contained giggles coming from their direction. When Sungwoon had told him that his responsibility tonight was to mainly stay close to the prince and attend to all his requests and needs, but he never did he think it would involve having to listen in to the copious amounts of distasteful flirting he gets for the entire night. Jihoon closes his eyes for a second, taking a heavy inhale of air that smells of mead and the unnatural mixture of fragrances coming from every person in the room, and sighs it all out.

When he opens his eyes again, his gaze lands on a set of brown ones from a stranger across the room. The young-looking man smiles at him, and Jihoon tries to keep his face in a passive yet somewhat cheerful state in case the smile isn’t meant for him. He glances toward Daniel again out of habit and responsibility, and sees him still laughing along with the same girls. He holds back on rolling his eyes, which proves to be easier than he thought when a distraction comes to him in the form of a tap on his shoulder.

“Hello.”

Jihoon looks up to see that the same stranger he had just locked eyes with is now standing beside him. He’s taller—a  _ lot  _ taller—now that they’re in the same breathing space that Jihoon has to constantly tilt his head up a bit just to talk to him.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you around here before. Might I make your acquaintance?” The young man says, and Jihoon wants to snark back about how that’s probably the poorest introduction he’s ever heard considering he  _ lives _ here in the castle himself and if anyone, should be the one saying that he’s never seen people like him before. He keeps his mouth shut though because judging from the refinements he’s dressed in and the way he talks, Jihoon can immediately tell that this stranger is born of royalty. He flashes the man a small smile, bowing his body a little.

“It’s Jihoon, my lord. I am Prince Daniel’s personal servant,” he says with impeccable grace. The royal stranger raises his eyebrows at him, amused.

“Prince Daniel is a very lucky man then, to have someone so  _ ravishing  _ as his servant. My name is Lai Guanlin. It is my deepest pleasure to meet you, Jihoon.”

Lai Guanlin. So he’s right then. The Lai family is one of the visiting royals tonight as from what he’s heard from Sungwoon earlier so that would make this man in front of him the prince. Jihoon returns the bow he’s given and tries not to focus too much on how the prince had described him just now.

“So, tell me Jihoon. How are you enjoying the party so far?” Prince Guanlin asks him, his debonair smile unwavering.

“Ah, I do hope the party to your liking, my lord. But truthfully, I am not really in the position to be enjoying myself as I have responsibilities to serve,” Jihoon says, and he’s never been more proud of himself for having learned how to speak so eloquently. 

“That’s very honorable of you Jihoon. I like that,” the prince says, taking a step closer to him. “But it’s quite a shame to have to hear that you are not allowed to enjoy yourself as fairly as everyone else. I would hope that Prince Daniel is not giving you a hard time?”

“Oh, nothing of the sort, my lord.” Jihoon bows, smiling in reassurance. “I just meant that my duties come first and foremost.”

“Then perhaps you can assist me with a request? One that would...suitably benefit your responsibilities and your personal enjoyment for tonight.”

Prince Guanlin has taken another step closer, and Jihoon can smell the musky scent coming off of him. It’s quite intoxicating. “Oh. How may I be of help to you, my lord?”

The prince smirks at him, and this time, he leans a little too close to whisper his next words. “I have a few things in mind.”

Before Jihoon can get out an answer though, another person joins in on their conversation and enters their little exchange with a voice fit for command. 

“Prince Guanlin. I see you’ve met my steward,” Daniel says to his right, standing a little too close than what’s necessary.

“Indeed I have Prince Daniel,” the other prince says in a beat, who’s also retaining his much too close of a distance to him. Jihoon suddenly feels like a cornered mouse. “In fact, Jihoon here was just about to help me with a matter I need addressing.”

“Is that so?” Daniel looks at him then, a gaze so barren that Jihoon almost shivers. “Well I’m afraid I must give my apologies, Prince Guanlin. I need Jihoon’s help on a rather urgent matter involving my sabertooth. You’ve met Ori before, correct?”

Jihoon can clearly see the Prince Guanlin’s confidence sway at that, the kind of look one gets in his eyes when faced with the prospect of a man-eating predator.

“How could I forget?” Prince Guanlin smiles, tipping his head in a small bow. “I apologize for keeping you two then. I hope everything is well with your pet, Prince Daniel.”

“Thank you. Please enjoy the rest of the party.” Daniel bows back, before turning his gaze back to Jihoon and motioning for him to follow. He smiles and bows to the other prince then, right before following Daniel’s trail.

It’s quite the relief to finally be away from the crowd and the part of the castle that’s hosting the huge gathering. The hallways leading up to Daniel’s bed chambers are dimly lit and empty, quiet and hollow, that serves as a huge respite for Jihoon’s senses. There’s a nagging concern at the forefront of his mind now though, one he doesn’t hesitate in voicing out.

“What’s wrong with Ori?” He asks Daniel, matching his pace and coming to walk beside him. To his surprise, Daniel stops in his tracks and turns to him. Eyes still cold and barren.

“Were you seriously just about to go crawl into bed with that sleazy son of a bitch?” He says with poorly held contempt. Seething, almost.

“W-what?” Jihoon blinks, and the confusion in his face must do something because he sees Daniel’s expression softening, if only by a little. 

“Nothing,” he says, turning back on his path to start walking again.

When they reach his bed chambers, Jihoon sees that Ori is fast asleep on Daniel’s bed and only briefly opens her eyes to look at them. The fact that she’s so completely unbothered tells him that there isn’t really anything wrong with her and that Daniel has just dragged him here for either a different reason or none entirely. He faces the prince after he’s made sure that the sabertooth really is fine, only to find that Daniel is staring right back at him.

The silver of his suit makes him glow even in the dim light of his bedroom, but Jihoon can’t really say for certain what’s going on in his head. He suddenly remembers what went on in this very room hours earlier, a shameful reminder of what their current situation is like. The hecticness of the party has made him forget all about it for a little while but the distraction isn’t permanent. He breaks his gaze first, looking down at his feet and waiting for the unknown.

“Can you prepare my bath? I’d like to turn in soon.”

Jihoon nods without looking up, quickly turning around to head to the bathroom adjacent of his bed chambers. He gets everything ready; mixing the water to a nice temperature, getting the towels, and placing the toiletries within reach. Jihoon moves efficiently and methodically so he could quickly get this over with and finally leave Daniel’s presence.

When everything’s in order, he makes his way back to the bedroom only to walk in at the exact moment Daniel removes his silver tunic. Jihoon immediately feels his face heating up upon seeing the prince’s exposed back, and the only thing he thinks to do right where he freezes on the spot is to stare at the ground and at his feet. He’s never seen Daniel undress before, and come to think of it, he’s never really asked him to prepare his bath in the past either. It provides him with a little bit of comfort at least, that the foreignness of the situation can excuse as to why he feels like his chest is about to explode.

He supposes he should say something, perhaps tell the prince that he’s done his job so he could excuse himself out. And Jihoon’s about to, that is until he sees another pair of feet come to stand in front of his own while he keeps his eyes on the ground. Suddenly all he can hear is his heart pounding in his ears, burning the tips hot with fast-coursing blood that’s leaving him a little lightheaded. He tries to breathe through his nose to calm himself down, failing at it miserably

“Jihoon,” Daniel says, the tone of his voice entirely different from what he had been using all night—much softer, quieter.

“D-Daniel, I—”

“Look at me.”

The order surprises him, and whatever else he had wanted to say effectively leaves the confines of his brain to sheer emptiness. He doesn't move—doesn’t do anything—but the next word out of Daniel’s mouth surprises him even more.

“Please.”

It sounds less of a command now and more of a request, a gentle one that Jihoon thinks he can’t say no to. So he gulps down past the huge lump that’s lodged itself in his throat and steels himself. He takes a rather perceptible breath that ends in a heavy sigh, right before he slowly turns his face up.

From Daniel’s feet to his long legs. Up towards his hips that connect to to his chiseled abdomen that almost takes his breath away by sight alone. There's the clear evidence in the years of swordsmanship and athletic prowess in the lower half of his body, the physical implication making it that much harder to breathe. He fights on, eyes slowly going up and trailing his muscles and then—

He stops, freezes over at what greets him. Almost at his own eye level and directly in front of him—at Daniel’s bare chest and on his bulging pectorals—is the full image of the tattoo he’d seen peeking out of his clothes earlier in the day. It’s stark; completely distinct and eye-catching against the pale skin of where his heart lies underneath. The dark ink starts at the base of the left side of his chest and climbs in a rough line all the way up to his left collar bone in a rugged and indistinct shape that tapers at the edges. There are hints of blues and slight greens on the parts where the line is thicker, but even the two colors are dark and murky at best.

“I didn’t know you had a tattoo.” The words come out of his mouth before he can stop himself, the blunder making him look up in a panic only to see—quite surprisingly—that Daniel is smiling.

“This isn’t a tattoo,” Daniel says with a chuckle, although the sound of it is different. Darker and heavier than what he’s used to hearing. "It's a scar."

Jihoon blinks a little in confusion, eyes daring to go down his bare chest again to give the dark mark a second glance. This retrospective sight along with the suggestion of what it is makes it apparent that what he’s looking at isn’t what he originally thought it to be. Jihoon is no artist by any means, but he at least knows as much that a tattoo is simply ink that sits on the surface of someone’s skin. The one Daniel has on his chest isn’t like that—far from it.

The dark line is  _ underneath _ him, staining his skin from the inside out. A closer look even shows that the tapered edges are actually the tendrils of his veins, branching out from the center of the darkest point like sullied blood. It’s in this intense curiosity and poignant observation that Jihoon fails to notice that his hand is reaching out to touch it, only realizing too late when he feels Daniel’s muscles tense up in a coil after his fingers have already skimmed the surface.

“S-sorry—”

He makes to pull his hand away, but Daniel suddenly has his wrist and hold him in place. Jihoon looks up, sees the solemn depth in the prince’s eyes as his hand is brought back to his chest—his entire palm coming to rest over the mark. Almost immediately Jihoon feels something off; a coldness, almost malevolent, courses through his hand that makes his stomach churn in an unpleasant way. He jerks his hand back harshly as if he had just touched frostbite, although he thinks the feeling is probably no different from one.

“Did you feel something?” Daniel asks him, only mildly surprised with his reaction. 

“I—” He’s not even sure how to say it, if words can articulate what just buzzed through his nerves, “It’s...cold.”

Daniel narrows his eyes at him for a second, nodding in understanding after a few beats. “I guess you’re more of an elf that you thought,” he says, as if he’s confirming the fact with himself just as much as with him. “The only other people who’s had the same reaction as you did just now after touching me are those attuned to magic.”

Jihoon frowns, looks down at the hand he’s cradling then back at Daniel and his scar. “I don’t understand. Why would a scar  _ feel  _ like that?”

Daniel purses his lips and takes a pause. He seems to be hesitating, his steely gaze boring down on him and contemplating something he can’t understand. He lets out a heavy breath after a while, closing his eyes for a second before he speaks.

“It’s customary, for a kingdom such as ours, to celebrate the coming of a new heir,” he starts to say, flat and factual. His tone so distant that as if he were reciting the words out from his body rather than actually speaking.

“It’s been done for previous generations, so when the new heir of Maroowen was born over twenty years ago, it’s nothing new for the king to have ordered a period of celebration for the entire kingdom. The people celebrated, and for the first time in a long time the palace gates were open to everyone who had wanted to see the prince. There were festivals on the streets, parties not unlike the one we’re having tonight, and visitors from our neighboring kingdoms coming in to give their blessing."

Daniel shakes his head and smiles a little to himself over his words, a bemused kind of look painting his face that as if he's having a hard time believing his own tale. Jihoon doesn’t understand how any of what he just said relates to his question or the scar he has, but he keeps mum and listens when he breathes.

"There was one man in particular though, a visitor who came all the way from outside of Esna to join the festivities. And much like everyone else, he came to the kingdom bearing a gift for the new prince.” He frowns a little over the words, as if it’s hard for him to say. “Now, one thing that's worth taking note of though is that the king—well...he had a lot of enemies in the past. People who held deep grudges against him."

His voice drops a few levels, bordering on cold monotony. Daniel isn't even looking at him anymore and is merely staring into space with a far-away look in his eyes.

"The man who visited that day was one of those people. He was a sorcerer who wanted to get his revenge on the king...and he believed that there was no better way of attaining that than by condemning his first born son and only heir to the throne." A hand involuntarily goes up to touch the skin below where his scar starts, running a finger on the edge absentmindedly. 

"So that's exactly what the sorcerer did. For the gift he had brought with him that day wasn't a blessing...but a curse. One that he placed on the prince with a magic no one in the palace could stop him for."

Jihoon feels something heavy building in the cavity of his chest then, making his heart beat at an unnecessary rate and fill his blood with anticipated dread. He doesn’t need to think too hard to guess where Daniel is going with this now, but he still finds himself hoping for a change in direction. A pause and a breath later though, his nightmare comes to fruition.

“The sorcerer didn't kill the prince like everyone thought he would. In fact, he made sure that the heir will grow and live to be a respected young man. He will know joy and sadness; will love and be loved in return. He will make mistakes of his own and he will better himself by learning from them.” Daniel’s voice is growing thicker now, enough that he has to clear his throat midway to keep talking. “He will live to see and experience but a mere taste of the world and what life is like—nothing more, nothing less...because after the sun sets on his twenty-second birthday—”

Daniel’s breath stops and his words trail off to an abrupt halt, causing Jihoon to cling to his lingering thought. He holds his breath, the dread consuming him more than ever in cold anticipation, completely unready to hear the last sentence to his story.

"After the sun sets on the prince's twenty-second birthday, just as the first full moon of winter reaches the heavens...he will die."

A deafening silence falls over the room after Daniel is done speaking, and the only sound Jihoon hears is the drum of his heart echoing in his ears. No one moves, and no one even breathes a sound of air. The surrounding atmosphere is thick and heavy, and it’s in this stillness that Jihoon can feel something wet trailing down the expanse of his left cheek. He tries to swallow—almost chokes on the weight of his own tongue—and tries to come up with something to say.

“What book did you pick that story up from?” He asks, his voice cracking as he forces out a chuckle in feigned lightness. His tears won’t stop falling. “Or did you get that from a bard? Because there’s no way that’s all real and—”

He feels Daniel’s hand cup one side of his face then, his hand coming up warm and delicate against his skin. He feels a thumb swiping at his tears, and Jihoon looks up to see a sad smile being thrown at him.

“There's no way to remove the curse...but there's a way it can be lifted," he says, trying to impart some semblance of hope that Jihoon finds himself immediately holding on to. "The prince’s mother, before she had married the king and become queen, was a priestess of the church of light. She was learned in magic, and she performed a ritual that made it possible to combat the curse so that her son could live through it...at the cost of her own life."

There’s an even sadder expression that passes through Daniel’s face then, a small smile that’s telling of the kind of pain he must feel for the people involved in his tale. He clears his throat again, his hold on Jihoon’s face unmoving.

“She was just around our age...when she gave up her life. But because of her sacrifice, there’s a way to save another’s." He nods, as if to swallow to truth and the goodness it holds. "Love is the answer, and only the ceremony of holy matrimony performed by someone from the church of light can lift the curse and prevent the prince from dying—but the catch is, since the queen who is of royal blood was the one who sacrificed herself in the ritual, the prince has to marry someone of royal blood too. Otherwise the magic won’t work.”

It all clicks inside Jihoon’s head then, everything about what Daniel is saying. The reason he meets all these princes and princesses from different kingdoms, why he’s in such a hurry to find someone to marry. What he said before about not being able to rule the kingdom alone like his father, and that he isn’t like normal princes. Jihoon looks down at his scar again, taking it in and very tentatively holds out a hand to touch it. He places his palm over the dark mark when Daniel doesn’t move against it, immediately feeling the same cold energy coming on to him. He tolerates it though, bites his lip in a fight to keep himself steady until he feels it—just underneath all the chill and malignance—is a heartbeat. The sun that’s shrouded in darkness, fighting to shine.

“You don’t have to cry for me, Jihoon,” Daniel tells him then, putting up a small smile of comfort. “I’ve lived with this burden my entire life. You don’t have to shoulder the worry too.”

Jihoon sniffs and tries to blink away his tears. He doesn’t know how to make what Daniel just said even possible. “Does everyone know?” 

The prince shakes his head, sighing as he thumbs at another fallen tear on his cheek. “Only a few people in the palace know. It’s a royal secret that would prove...problematic, if it gets out. No good will ever come to the knowledge that the one and only heir to the throne of Maroowen has his life on the line.”

It stings to even hear the word, and Jihoon makes to lightly punch him in the chest for saying so. “Why are you telling me then?”

Daniel’s face falls again down to a serious look. His gaze turns softer, but by no means less weighted, when he answers.

“Because I don’t want you to think that I regret anything of what happened that night,” he says firmly, brushing a delicate finger on his face. “I’m sorry for avoiding you like I did, and for making you feel like you did something wrong. Jaehwan has been telling me to keep a distance because it’ll be easier for you to move on that way but...I don’t care for that anymore. You of all people deserve to know the truth.”

Daniel takes a step closer then, as close as they were when it was just the two of them in the ballroom that night. He shifts the hand on his face down to his waist carefully and slowly, waiting for any signs of aversion or reluctance from him. He starts pulling him closer, and all Jihoon does is let himself be wrapped around his arms in an embrace.

“That night...was the happiest I’ve ever been in a long time. You’re the only person in this world who has ever made me wish so hard that I was never born a prince, Jihoon.” He whispers against his ear when his face rests just beside and above his own. His breath so close that it tickles his skin. “I’m sorry. It was selfish of me. It’s  _ still  _ selfish of me to even be doing this...but—”

Jihoon doesn’t let him continue, when he abruptly looks up and stands on his toes to crash their lips together. He can feel the surprise against him and even within himself but he doesn’t pull away despite it; he doesn’t let his own hesitation take control of him and just pushes himself closer, deeper, into Daniel. Jihoon feels a hand go to the base of his neck, holding and soothing him into relaxing, and it’s not too long before he feels him reciprocating the move.

He can taste the saltiness of his tears when Daniel moves to open his mouth a little, but he doesn’t care and he doesn’t stop even when he’s feeling more breathless by the second. His heart is hammering to the point of eruption, and he’s feeling a hundred different emotions coursing through his body all at once. Daniel kisses him harder, pulling their bodies flush until the space between them disappears into nonexistence. When they pull away at the same time, Jihoon can see that he’s not the only one crying anymore, and that the prince’s face is glistening in the low light in the same manner.

He falls into his embrace again, burying his face on his bare chest and letting himself shed unabashed tears. For the very first time since he’s arrived in this castle, he cries not for himself but for Daniel; for the life he has and the burden he’s been carrying, for how unfair it all is for someone so kind and strong and compassionate to be given the short end of the stick. 

Lastly, Jihoon cries for them. For what fate has given them a taste of; all the possibilities and endings they could share—all of which they could never have.


	8. Bound by Duty

Daniel stretches his neck, turning his head left and right absentmindedly on his seat at the throne as they extend more minutes in waiting. His father is feeling ill this morning with a slight flu so he's left to greet the new visiting prince alone. Jaehwan is stood in attention to his right, while two other guards flank his left.

"How long does it take to walk from the stables to here? They should have arrived by now." Daniel whines, whispering to Jaehwan who just snorts in assent.

"He actually came in alone. I saw him enter the gates with just his horse on him."

"What?"

His curiosity blows but before he can get an answer, the main doors of the throne room open to let in the guest they've been sitting here waiting for. If Jaehwan hadn't told him beforehand, he might actually raise an eyebrow in surprise. But even so, seeing their guest walk and bow before him all alone and with nary a guard or an entourage behind his back is something Daniel has never seen any prince or princess do before.

"Prince Daniel," their guest bows to him, a full-body angle with his face turned to the ground. "Allow me to introduce myself, I am Prince Seongwu from the kingdom of Fantagoia. I am extremely humbled to meet your acquaintance."

Daniel rises from his seat for a second, bowing to the other prince in return."The pleasure is all mine Prince Seongwu. Thank you for traveling all the way here. I do hope the roads were favorable?”

“They were, my prince.” Prince Seongwu smiles, the gleaming white of his teeth a stark contrast to his raven-like hair. “And I’m happy to say that the journey is well worth it.”

Daniel returns the smile, taking his jab at flattery. "I'm glad to hear that. I must say, I'm deeply astonished that you came all the way here by yourself. Even my father won't let me out of the castle without my guards."

"Oh, that's because I relieved mine upon entering your kingdom, my prince. We've had a long journey and I merely wanted them to rest as soon as they can," the prince says, amicable in his tone. "I've heard a great deal about the safety here in Maroowen. And I must admit, it was kind of exciting to experience that first hand for myself."

"That's very generous of you, Prince Seongwu. Please, allow me to extend the hospitality and—"

One of the side doors to the throne room suddenly opens with a loud bang, alerting every person inside and making them turn to the direction of the noise. It comes to no one’s surprise though when the culprit comes in the form of a four-legged beast with razor-sharp teeth, followed by a bush of light-blonde hair that follows it from behind popping up from the same door.

"Ori! Get back here!" Jihoon's voice echoes around the halls. And despite the fact that Daniel’s orders to keep his pet away from the throne room have thoroughly been disobeyed, he still finds himself smiling at the image of servant chasing his cat.

"I-I'm sorry your highness. She ran away from me just now and—Ori!" 

Daniel whips his head to where Ori has run to in front of them, circling Prince Seongwu like a predator to her prey with eyes constantly watching the prince and growling. Daniel feels the gravity of the situation immediately, getting up from his seat.

"Ori! Heel!" He commands, but either his sabertooth doesn’t hear him or simply chooses to ignore him. 

"It's quite alright Prince Daniel. No need for alarm," Prince Seongwu says rather casually, a surprise to everyone looking on. He's keeping still on his spot, perfectly poised as if there isn’t a large, man-eating animal currently eyeing him to the bone. "I'm quite used to dealing with wild animals."

Daniel doesn't even have time to be impressed by his supposed bravery because the dark-haired prince is suddenly starting to kneel, slowly crouching low to the ground at eye level to the sabertooth. Ori just growls even louder.

"Umm, my lord. I don't think you should be doing that," Jihoon tells him, and Daniel dares to steal a quick glance at his friend to see that his eyes are wide with panic. If Jihoon tells you something about an animal, then it's best to just follow him.

"Prince Seongwu, my steward is right. Please, try to—"

But the prince doesn't listen and instead—much to everybody's sanity—reaches out a hand for the sabertooth tiger. It all happens in a flash that all somehow plays in Daniel's eyes in slow motion. The moment Ori bares her teeth and retracts her claws, the quarter of a second it takes for her to pounce, and the panicked shielding of arms Prince Seongwu does to keep her away. 

Daniel hears a sword slicing out of its sheath and he looks to the right to see Jaehwan ready for arms. He knows his best friend wouldn't dare hurt Ori, but the fact probably won't stand unless they want a dead prince on the throne room floor.

"ORI!" Comes a loud, thunderous voice. Low and deep and echoing through the entire throne room. Daniel looks to his right in complete surprise when he sees that it's none other than Jihoon.

What's even more surprising, is the fact that Ori actually listens. Her ears go down and so does her tail, and her posture evidently changes as she slowly backs away with a look of shame in her eyes. Daniel hears a quiet breath of relief come out of Jaehwan, but the panic doesn't leave him when he notices a flash of red coloring the visiting prince.

"Prince Seongwu!" 

Daniel crouches next to him, eyes never leaving the bleeding gash on the other prince's right forearm that's soiling his dark tunic in crimson.

"Help me bring him to Jisung," he says to the two guards harriedly, and then to Jaehwan, "Take Jihoon and Ori to the library. And make sure they  _ stay _ there."

He proceeds to help the prince up, keeping him close to his person and ignoring the worried look Jihoon gives him before he’s whisked away from sight.

  
  
  
  
  


“I am truly,  _ truly  _ sorry about this Prince Seongwu.”

“And for the eighteenth time, Prince Daniel. It’s okay.” The dark-haired prince laughs at him, a sound so lighthearted that as if he hadn’t just been mauled by a vicious predator minutes earlier. 

“The gash isn’t too deep, thankfully. But we best keep it wrapped up for the next few days to ensure a clean recovery,” Jisung says from where he’s seated in front of the prince, finishing up his ministrations on his right arm. “I will have to change the bandages tomorrow though.”

Prince Seongwu looks about to say something in refusal, but Daniel gets ahead of him. “Thank you, Jisung. Can you please inform Sungwoon to prepare one of the guest chamber suites for him?”

Jisung nods at his request, before cleaning up his tools and leaving the both of them in the room. Daniel takes the seat across from the prince then, offering a small smile that's returned wholeheartedly.

"I greatly appreciate the hospitality Prince Daniel but really, I'm fine. You need not go to the trouble of caring for me."

Daniel shakes his head at the prince's modesty, apologetic in his expression. "It's the least I can do, Prince Seongwu. It's no trouble at all," he says, worriedly glancing at his injury. "Does it hurt? Are the bandages too tight?”

“I’m okay, honest. Lord Jisung did a splendid job." The other prince chuckles, running a hand over his bandages. “And it’s not like the wound is all that serious. I’ll live.”

“Still, Ori is my responsibility.” Daniel sighs, nodding regretfully. “I feel terrible that all of this happened under my watch. She’s not usually hostile to people.”

“Well, it’s not your fault that animals don’t like me.” Prince Seongwu laughs again, moving to push up the sleeve on his other arm. There’s a fading scar on the surface of his skin, a gash that’s easily twice the size of what he got from Ori. “I got attacked by a passing bear in the woods near my kingdom when I was fifteen. And this one right here—” He points to another scar, just below his neck. A small one that’s invisible unless pointed at. “—one of my sister’s cats quite recently scratched me while I was trying to pet him.”

Daniel stares and dips his eyebrows a little in staring at his marks. “So despite getting all this, you  _ still _ reached your hand out to touch Ori earlier?” He asks with a light laugh, remembering what had happened in the throne room.

"I said animals don't like me, not the other way around," Prince Seongwu says, a smirk on his face. Daniel matches with a laugh.

"Well, I'm sorry to say this but I don't think I'll be letting Ori anywhere near you any time soon."

"And here I thought I'd get to actually play with her." The prince pouts, and Daniel loses a beat in the exchange when he realizes with startling clarity that he's never had a prince pout at him before. He feels his smile growing, the walls of formality dropping..

"Let me make it up to you,” he finds himself saying, the words genuinely tumbling out of his mouth in a warm flow. 

“You’re already very generously providing me with lodging, Prince Daniel,” he says back, shy and respectful in his decline. “I’d hate to impose any more than necessary.”

“It really isn't imposing much for me to want your company over dinner, is it?” Daniel says, doing that thing where he bites his lower lip in anticipation. He feels a little glad and just a tad bit confident that the small gesture doesn’t slip by the other prince. “So what do you say?”

Prince Seongwu narrows his eyes a little at him in mock consideration, one that Daniel can’t help but chuckle a bit at. He eventually gets a nod, and a warm smile he thinks he could get used to looking at.

“It’s a date then,” the prince says. And Daniel honestly wouldn’t have it any other way.

  
  
  
  
  


It’s a rare kind of thing—one that has never happened to him before with any of the other princes and princesses he’s met through the years—to be able to develop a connection with someone right off the bat. Besides the fact that Prince Seongwu is probably the only person who’s met (and got attacked by) Ori and didn’t run off wanting to be as far away from the castle as possible, there’s the undeniable matter that he’s actually a really pleasant person to be with.

Their first dinner that same night is probably the first time Daniel’s legitimately enjoyed the presence of another royal. There’s no talk of fanciful riches or materialistic possessions, but simply a lot about their scruples of everyday life around their respective castles and households; about what it’s like for Daniel to be the only child and how it is for Seongwu who’s the youngest of four siblings.

“I’m actually the only male heir in the family,” he said that night over their bowls of mutton stew, although by then their food is all but gone and they’re both just lingering at the table with their wines in not wanting to end the night yet. “But in our kingdom, we don’t really segregate the gender of the heir, so whoever is born first becomes the first in line.”

“Sounds fair,” Daniel comments, taking a sip of his drink.

“That’s why everyone back home has dubbed me as  _ ‘the last prince’. _ Since I’m the last child my parents conceived and the only boy.”

Daniel raises an eyebrow at that, curious. “Everyone back home? You mean your castle household?”

To his surprise, Seongwu shakes his head. “Not just them. Even the people in the villages. I have a lot of friends outside the palace.”

He finds himself smiling at that, and although he admits that he’s a little jealous about how free he is despite being the prince, Daniel can’t deny that he’s also a little impressed. It’s almost unheard of for someone of royal blood to actually have relations outside their palace circle, although Daniel completely understands why the case is different with the prince. As he quickly learns that night and to much of the nights that follow thereafter, it’s kind of hard  _ not _ to be friends with a person like Seongwu.

“This is Ser Kim Jaehwan of the Black Knights, my appointed guard,” Daniel introduces his best friend to the prince that following morning at breakfast when he’s brought him to the kitchens. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Ser Jaehwan. I must say, the reputation of the Black Knights have reached even the people’s conversations in my kingdom. It’s an honor to meet its youngest member in the flesh.” Seongwu bows, much to blush Jaehwan grows on his face.

“That’s very kind of you, Prince Seongwu. A pleasure to meet you too.”

Daniel bites down a lip to keep himself from laughing too much, then proceeds to turn to the other person standing with them. He feels his heart do a flip when their eyes meet, and Daniel has to bite down his lips a little harder to prevent what he feels is a rather dopey smile from crawling up his face.

“And this is my personal servant, Park Jihoon.” He gestures to him, feeling rather proud when Jihoon bows to the prince like a proper gentleman.

“It’s an honor to meet your acquaintance, my lord.”

“Ah, the man who saved my life from the prince’s sabertooth tiger.” Seongwoo laughs, flashing his bright teeth at the flustered blonde. “I don’t believe I’ve said my thanks so allow me to express my gratitude Jihoon. It’s an honor to meet you too.”

They shake hands then, and Daniel feels again the surge of warmth travel through his system at the image in front of him. “Why don’t you join us for breakfast, Prince Seongwu? We usually eat here in the kitchens where it’s a lot cozier.”

Jaehwan gives him a surprised look over at what’s probably an uncustomary invitation. Princes don’t dine in the kitchen—it’s basically an aberration that probably only Daniel likes to indulge in. Jaehwan’s face, however, grows even more surprised when Seongwu actually says yes.

“My sisters and I actually used to help out in the castle kitchens when we were little. It’s actually very normal for me to eat my meals in places like this instead of huge dining rooms like most royals,” Seongwu offers in explanation when he notices the surprised look Jaehwan has on, sitting on the seat across Daniel. 

“I see. You’re like Prince Daniel then,” Jaehwan says in understanding, but Daniel has briefly stopped listening to the two when he notices Jihoon blundering out of place on the side—looking uncertain of where or even whether he should be joining in. Daniel’s about to beckon for him to sit beside his seat until Jaehwan suddenly overtakes him.

“Jihoon, can you set up the table please? And I think Jinyoung could use your help preparing the food inside. Why don’t you give him a hand?”

It’s as good as any sort of dismissal as any, and Jihoon immediately takes the hint and bows to follow his orders. Not wanting to create any kind of tension with a guest in their company, Daniel just gives Jaehwan a second of a glance that he knows his best friend will understand. The young knight ignores him though, and merely continues talking to Prince Seongwu in animated, Jaehwan-fashion. 

Jihoon doesn’t join them to eat that morning, nor on any of the other mornings thereafter.

  
  
  
  
  


Much to Daniel’s disfavor, the habit of his servant’s growing distance from him develops and touches all the other parts of their routined life in the castle. Seongwu and Jaehwan on the other hand grow just as close as he is being with the prince himself which isn’t inherently too terrible of a thing because if he’s being completely honest with, Seongwu’s company is something he doesn’t mind at all of anyway.

But Daniel isn’t stupid, nor is he ignorant. He knows what subtle moves his best friend is playing and he knows what he’s up to.

They could be practicing with swords at the courtyard like always, sparring with their dulled blades—and Daniel losing for the most part—like as if it was just any other day. Only difference is, the person clapping on the sidelines when they’re through isn’t who he’s expecting it to be.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen such excellent swordplay in my life! You both are so wonderful!” Seongwu exclaims to them as they walk over. Jaehwan shamelessly even bows.

“Where’s Jihoon?” Daniel asks, also daring to be shameless. He thinks it’s a perfectly valid question regardless, since being his servant and all he’s  _ supposed  _ to be here to assist him.

“I sent him to take Ori out for a walk on the other side of the castle grounds,” Jaehwan answers without missing a beat, face passive and sharp. Daniel raises an eyebrow at him, challenging.

“Then who’s to  _ serve _ me when my servant isn’t here?” He says, raising his hands to show his arm guards—the one Jihoon always helps him off with.

“Oh, I can do that for you.” Seongwu volunteers from beside him, immediately walking over to take his hand in his.

“Prince Seongwu, you don’t have to—”

“Shush.” The prince puts a finger over his lips, silencing him. “I’ve done this with my father plenty of times. And what did I say about our titles? Just call me Seongwu,  _ Daniel. _ ”

When the finger leaves his lips, Daniel purses them shyly; looking down at Seongwu’s hands as he expertly removes the loops of his arm guards. Despite his small fluster, he doesn’t fail notice how close they’re standing next to each other especially when he can smell the sweet fragrance coming off from the other prince’s body.

"There. All done," Seongwu says, his face turning up into a smile, and although it doesn't completely banish his annoyance with his knight, it does make something flutter inside him to flash a small smile back.

He's soon learned to accept it, the fact that the only times he sees Jihoon nowadays is when he's actively doing his job around him; instances that, more often than not, only happens when he's with Jaehwan, Seongwu or both. The words they exchange now are limited to greetings for whenever Jihoon meets him for his duties, and thanks when he's done his favors for him.

It still doesn't stop him though, from making small gestures to communicate with the blonde that he thinks is adequate enough given their situation. From throwing small and discreet smiles whenever he's sure no one else is looking, to subtle smirks and eyebrow twitches in between. It makes him happy at least, whenever he catches Jihoon returning the gestures back.

But as stubborn as Daniel is with regards to this silent battle, Jaehwan is equally just as so. When all this time the most he's done is drive Jihoon away from him under the pretense of ordering him around to do chores, his mode of attack changes in the most unexpected of ways one day in the form of Seongwu.

"I've never seen a royal library before. Back in our kingdom we've only ever really had studies and a few shelves on them.” The prince recounts excitedly from beside him one day where they're walking the halls heading for the east wing of the castle. Daniel hates to be rude but he’s mostly tuning him out at the moment, having other thoughts running through his mind. “When Jaehwan told me about the huge one you have here in your castle I almost didn't believe him."

That prick. Of all the times he’s wanted to punch Jaehwan in the face, today is the strongest that the urge comes out. The lack of a response for the other prince seems too noticeable though, when suddenly Seongwu’s excited tone turns into a worried one.

"I, umm—I hope I'm not troubling you by asking you to take me there,” he says, prompting Daniel to turn and look at him with a reassuring smile.

“Not at all. I just hope Jaehwan didn’t build your expectations too high with whatever he’s told you. I’d hate to disappoint.”

They finally reach the end of the hallway that holds the large set of wooden double doors leading to the library. Daniel puts a hand to push it open, biting his lip and hoping against hope that the room is empty today.

“This is it. Maroowen Castle’s main library,” he tells Seongwu once they step inside, watching from ahead how the prince’s eyes grow in size as he turns around on the spot to take in his surroundings.

“Wow. This is—wow,” is all he says, right before he faces back to him with a huge smile on his face. Despite the anxiousness that’s been pulsating through him for the past few minutes, Daniel is having a hard time not feeling happy too. Seongwu’s smile is contagious.

“You’re welcome to come here any time. The library is open to everyone in the castle and—”

His words die in his mouth when he sees a bush of blonde hair coming in from one side of the room. His anxiety hits the brim, and suddenly all he can do is stare at Jihoon who’s carrying a pile of books in his arms and staring right back at them in surprise.

“Oh. Hello Jihoon.” Seongwu waves at him, smiling wider. “Were you cleaning up in here?”

It doesn’t take more than a second for him to catch on to what’s happening, and in no time he’s smiling back and bowing to them graciously. “Ah, yes my lord. I’m just finishing up.”

When Seongwu is satisfied with his answer, he faces Daniel again, surprising him by taking his hands in his. “Can you show me around? I want to know about your favorite books here.”

Daniel smiles a little, daring to steal a glance at his servant only to see that he’s facing away from them now. He nods at Seongwu, tightening their grip together and leading him towards one of the aisles of book cases—the one farthest from where Jihoon is.

The day after that—and the following two thereafter—Daniel visits the library in the usual time of the afternoon alone. He doesn’t see Jihoon in any of them.

  
  
  
  
  


“You called for me?”

Daniel straightens his back and keeps his hands folded behind his waist as he looks over at the view of the kingdom from his bedroom balcony. He makes a slow turn, facing Jaehwan with a blankness on his features.

“I need to talk to you.”

Jaehwan slightly frowns, but otherwise keeps his own passive expression as he takes a few steps forward to stand beside him. Their gazes don’t break, eyes lingering on each other’s with a fire in their depths. Daniel sighs, breaking the silence first.

“I’m just going to be frank with you here,” he starts to say, voice turned low and commanding. “I know what you’re trying to do, Jaehwan. And I called you here to tell you to stand down and mind your own business. Simple as that. Do I make myself clear?”

He doesn’t get an answer straight away and is just given a minute of silence filled with more staring. When Jaehwan finally speaks, he does so with a shake of his head.

“No.”

“Excuse me?” Daniel raises an eyebrow, challenging.

“You heard me. I said no.”

“I wasn’t really asking.”

“Neither was I.”

“And in what world do you think you can say no to me?”

At that Jaehwan actually lets out a laugh, one that’s void of any humor and glee. “You can play the mighty prince all you want but that’s not going to work on me,  _ your highness, _ ” he says, sneering at his words. “In what world do you think you can order me around like a kennel dog?”

“You’re my appointed knight,” Daniel says, slightly raising his voice. “You forget that I can just as easily change that.”

“I’d like to see you try, then.” Jaehwan crosses his arms, cocking his head to one side. “But let me remind you, my dear prince, that every action has its own equivalent repercussion. And in this case—well, I wonder what the king would have to say if he found out about your little dinner extravaganza with your personal servant? Or the fact that you kissed him on the night of our most recent party by which, might I add, you were expected to find a suitable hand of a royal to marry?”

Daniel opens his mouth but only to realize that there are no words that want to come out. He doesn’t even know how Jaehwan knows about  _ that _ , but then again he really shouldn’t be surprised. 

“Are you threatening me?” He seethes, doing his best to match the scowl Jaehwan throws at him.

“My words are as much of a threat as your own.”

“Jihoon didn’t do anything wrong.”

“And do you honestly think your father would buy that? That he would just let it slide and pretend that it never happened?” Jaehwan questions him, his words impaling him like a spear. “You know, the only reason I haven’t actually told your father about this yet is because I  _ know _ what he would do to Jihoon."

"Oh, so  _ now _ you actually care about him?"

"What exactly do you think it is I'm actually doing here? That I have some petty, personal agenda to split you two up? That I  _ want  _ to make your lives harder?" Jaehwan shakes his head, scoffing in disbelief. "Let me remind you, Daniel, that I'm doing everything out for  _ your  _ sake. You seem to be forgetting about the problem we have to fix because instead of actually  _ fixing  _ it, you're just making things worse."

Daniel finally breaks his gaze then, looking back at the view beyond his balcony railings and taking in a deep breath to calm himself. This isn’t what he had planned on tackling when he called Jaehwan here.

“You’re hurting him,” he says after a while, his voice quiet and distant. “You probably don’t notice it with your narrow-minded methods but I can see it, Jaehwan. Jihoon’s your friend—heck, he even looks up to you. And yet here you are hurting him like he’s nothing.”

He remembers the face Jihoon had that first time over at the kitchens during breakfast, and the face he saw most recently in the library. Daniel bites his lips, keeping in his anger.

“Are you sure it’s  _ me  _ doing the hurting? Because if you think that way, then you’re a lot more selfish and stupid than I thought you for.” Jaehwan snorts at him, his words making him turn back to meet his face. “Whose fault is it that Jihoon even ended up here in the castle in the first place? Who’s the one who kept making a move on him even despite knowing what can and can’t happen? Who’s the one who kept leading him on even after being told to stop?”

Not for the first time, Daniel can’t come up with words to say back in answer. He looks down at his feet, shame travelling through his blood. He feels a hand go to his arm, rubbing his tension away.

“I understand where you’re coming from, Daniel. Trust me, I really do,” Jaehwan continues, the hostility in his tone slowly ebbing away with the wind. “But I was there when that blasted scar of yours grew to occupy half your chest on your eleventh birthday. I was there, standing helplessly, while you were writhing in pain from this curse that’s marking its hold on your life. And now that we actually have a legitimate chance to finally get rid of it once and for all, I'm not just going to sit back and be your helpless little friend anymore."

Daniel can see the concern in his eyes, the urgency in them. And as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, Jaehwan is right. All he’s ever really done is be there and help him, fixing his mistakes and making sure he doesn’t make any more while at the same time doing his best to make sure he doesn’t die come his twenty-second birthday.

“Seongwu is good for you, Daniel. Even I can see that you’re starting to like him. Jihoon may have taken your heart first but we all know how this is going to end and what road you’ll eventually go down on,” Jaehwan says, the hand he has on his arm soothing. “If you really want Jihoon to stop hurting, then I’m not the one you should be telling to stop. Just let him go, Daniel.”

As his words sink in, Daniel thinks back to the way Jihoon had cried that night on his chest with his arms wrapped around him. He thinks back to how Jihoon nodded at him afterwards, exuding the extent of how much he understands and accepts the situation he’s in before he had excused himself to head back to his room. He remembers how his lips had felt against his own, the feelings he had passed through them—feelings he knows he can never entertain if he wants to live.

“You can go now,” he tells Jaehwan then, clamping his mouth in a tight line when he starts to feel his voice growing thicker. Thankfully, his best friend backs off without another word, bowing slightly to him before turning to leave.

Daniel takes a couple of minutes to breathe in some air to help clear his head. By no means does it work even in the slightest, but he only ever really needs resolve at this point rather than a sound mind. He sighs as he faces the sun set—wishing again that he had never been born a prince.

  
  
  
  
  


***

  
  
  
  
  


It’s days later when things finally reach the cusp of a turning point. The sun had already set for the day, and Daniel’s laid on his bed sorting out his muddied thoughts and waiting for sleep to take him when a knock comes on his door.

“Daniel?”

His mood quickly jumps, and his ears immediately perk up at the sound of Jihoon’s voice on the other side. He knows he’s being completely ridiculous when he goes to check his reflection in the mirror for a few seconds, but he attributes the act to merely making sure he’s presentable—definitely not because of who’s come to see him—before he moves to answer the door himself.

“Jihoon. Hi.” He smiles when he sees him, the grin spreading itself wide on his face. He hasn’t had a good look at him in a while and seeing him here in front of him, alone and with no Jaehwan to scrutinize their every move, fills him to the brim.

“Were you already in bed?” Jihoon asks, looking at his sleeping tunics. “I hope I didn’t disturb you.”

“No, not at all,” he says reassuringly. Daniel sees that his hands that are full carrying a few bundles of what looks to be fabric. “What brings you here? Do you need anything?”

Jihoon purses his lips, eyes going down to their feet. “I, umm...I was supposed to do this earlier but I didn’t want to disturb you and Prince Seongwu while you were in the library. I...hope you don’t mind. But I promised Daehwi I’d pass this back to him tomorrow morning.”

Daniel frowns a little in confusion, his question was barely answered. “Umm, okay? Come in.”

He closes the door behind him once Jihoon enters, watching him walk over to the center lounge of the room to place the stuff he brought with him on his desk. He pulls one of the bundles of cloth he has out, revealing itself to be an intricate white suit with fine, gold embellishments. Daniel's frown grows deeper, eyeing the piece of garment.

“What’s this for?”

Jihoon still isn’t looking at him, and is merely laying out his tools on the desk when he answers in a quiet voice. “It’s your wedding suit.”

The word drops to the very base of his stomach like a piece of hot, melded iron; it drags him down with its weight, burning him from the inside out in a searing sting. The excitement in seeing Jihoon disappears and is replaced by white-hot irritation he doesn’t know who or what to direct to.

“Daehwi’s already beginning to work on it,” Jihoon continues saying, back still turned away from him. “He said he needs time to make this so he wants to get a head start. I promised him I’d help get your measurements and—”

“No.” Daniel cuts him off, the sternness of his voice making Jihoon jump. “If Daehwi so badly wants to do this then tell him to come here and do it himself.”

Silence. Jihoon finally stops what he’s doing and stands stock still, slowly turning around to face him. His face is contorted in dejection.

“Daniel—”

“I said no, Jihoon.” He uses  _ that _ voice, low and commanding. “Do I have to repeat myself? Get Daehwi to come here or—”

“I’m the one who volunteered to do this.”

That stops him cold, his tongue growing in weight and losing the ability to form words. He watches Jihoon shrug in feigned nonchalance, a small defeated smile coming up to twist his lips. “Daehwi...didn’t want me doing this either. He sounded just like you, actually.”

“Jihoon—”

“Just let me do this...please.”

He doesn’t understand, and every single part of his body is telling him to scream no, to take control of the situation and tell him to leave. And he almost does too, but the look Jihoon gives him then kills his resolve; he hates himself when all he can do is nod.

Jihoon walks over to him then, helping him undress his top and slowly pulling the tunic over his stomach, his scarred chest, all the way over his head. He helps him get into the fancy white suit, the fit falling quite loose but with a fabric that feels soft on his skin. Jihoon gets to work then, face passive as he gets his measuring strings and starts to make marks around his bodice.

“Why?” He voices out after a few minutes of silence. Jihoon doesn’t waver in his job, his hands a lot steadier than the last time they’d done this.

“It’s a good excuse to finally get you alone,” he answers quietly from where he’s kneeling in front of him measuring his hem. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you for some time now...I just couldn’t get a chance.”

His answer gives Daniel some kind of hope, one that he knows he shouldn’t be entertaining or even be excited about but he can’t help it. When Jihoon rises from the ground to measure his torso, he gets a question he never even saw coming.

“Do you like him?”

It’s like getting hit with the butt-end of a sword straight to his gut. He watches Jihoon’s face, a little unnerved by how flat and passive his expression is, before shaking his head in response.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Jihoon places one end of the measuring string to his shoulder, leaning down a little to where his sleeves end. “Prince Seongwu. Do you like him?”

Daniel bites the inside of his cheek, fighting hard to keep still and not take Jihoon by the shoulders and shake him to reason. He doesn't want to talk about this. "Why are you asking?"

"Because I want to know."

“Why does it matter if I do or I don’t?”

Jihoon straightens back to his eye level, a held back smile and a soft sigh escaping through his nose as he wraps his string around his neck to measure the collar. “You can’t keep answering my questions with another question, Daniel ” he says, eyes directed on his task. “So do you like him?”

He pauses, tongue strongly held by his teeth in hesitation. “Jihoon…”

“Why won’t you just tell me?” He looks him in the eyes then, his usually reflective orbs coming out even glassier on the surface. His smile is gone. “Is it because you don’t want to hurt me? You think I can’t take it?”

“Don’t say that. That’s not—”

“Is it because I kissed you? Is that why you can’t answer?”

“Jihoon, please—”

“Just say yes.” His handle on the string tenses, his voice almost pleading. Worst of all though, Jihoon’s tears are starting to fall from his eyes; perfect teardrops sliding down across his face. “You don’t have to keep thinking about me, Daniel. You don’t have to worry about me and hold yourself back because...I don’t care. I don’t care if you like him and I don’t care about whatever it is that happened between us. Prince Seongwu is the right person for you, not me. He’s the one you should be thinking about. He’s the one you should—”

Daniel stops resisting the pull on his neck and leans forward, cutting off Jihoon’s words with his own mouth. He doesn’t want to listen to whatever he’s saying, not when the words he tastes on his lips are the complete opposite of what he hears. He makes to pull him closer, but Jihoon’s hands land on his chest to push himself away, breaking them apart.

They stare at each other in silence, through tear-stained eyes and barely contained breaths. The stinging in Daniel’s chest doesn’t stop even for a single second, and the pain seems to multiply even more at the sight of Jihoon’s pained expression; turning the butt-end hit the sword from earlier into a full blown cut, piercing right through his chest. Jihoon’s the one to break their gaze first, turning his head slightly to the right where the full length mirror stands.

“Look at us,” he says, his voice fraying at the edges while the tears in his eyes never cease to fall. Daniel turns to the mirror too, looking back at their reflection.

“You’re the crowned prince,” he continues, nodding at their figure. “You’re tall, and strong, and the future leader of Maroowen...me?” He chuckles, dark and humorless. “I’m a tailor’s son sent to the palace to pay for his crimes of stealing.”

Daniel bites his tongue, stopping himself from saying that he sees so much more than that. That he sees a talented man with a pure heart, someone hardworking and smart and selfless. Someone so handsome that would put any person of royalty to shame; someone so devoted and caring, that it makes whatever mistakes he’s done in the past irrelevant. 

“You deserve someone better, Daniel. You deserve a prince who can save you,” Jihoon says, nodding to himself and finally taking a step back. “Just forget about us. Forget about the kiss, and that night, and—”

His voice cracks and he cuts himself off short. For a second, Daniel thinks about whether Jaehwan has gotten to him and talked him into coming here and saying this tonight. It wouldn’t be beyond his best friend...yet at the same time, does it even matter? He thinks back to what he had told him that day, about everyone knowing how things will end. He knows it. Jihoon knows it—the inevitable step they all just have to take and accept.

“Is that what you want?” Daniel asks him, his own voice bordering on weakness. “For us to just forget everything?”

He shouldn’t be surprised in the least, and he isn’t—but it doesn’t stop his chest from hurting all the more when Jihoon nods at him with resolution. “I’m sorry...”

“Are you done then? I’d like you to leave now if you are.” 

Jihoon nods again, bowing a little before he walks back to his desk to fix his things. Daniel takes the suit off, folds it haphazardly before passing it to Jihoon. He doesn’t look at him when he makes his way to the door, nor does he respond in any way when he excuses himself and says goodnight. The doors close, and he’s bathed in silence.

Jaehwan ought to be happy now, he thinks. His heart currently feels like it’s been mauled and ripped to shreds by his sabertooth tiger but at least his friend will be happy. He makes to head back to his bed but a knock on the door interrupts him.

“What is it?”

“Daniel?”

He pauses, a little surprised to hear Seongwu’s voice. “Oh, you can come in.”

The door creaks open and in comes milky white skin and raven hair. Seongwu pauses for a second on the doorway and just stares at him, prompting Daniel to remember that he still has his top off and his scar is displayed in full view. Seongwu catches himself and looks down though, directing his question to another matter. 

“Umm, s-sorry. I hope I didn’t disturb you. But I was walking back to my room and crossed paths with Jihoon in the hallway. I couldn’t see very clearly but it looked like he was crying.” The prince purses his lips, shyly looking up to meet his eyes. “Is everything alright?”

Daniel sighs a little, doing his best to put up a smile of reassurance. “I had just told him off for making a mistake on something. Nothing for you to worry about, Seongwu.”

The prince nods, taking a few steps closer to him. “Well, for whatever he did, I hope you don’t hold him too hard for it. He looked awfully distraught.”

“He should be fine come morning,” he says, fervently wishing his words hold true. “Is there anything else you came here for?”

Seongwu’s practically just a foot away now, eyes locked on his as he bridges the gap between them to nonexistence. He places a hand on his arm, his touch cold and solid. His breath smells of peppermint, tickling his cheek when he speaks.

“Is everything alright with you?” The other prince asks, voice soft and just as worried. “You look awfully distraught too.”

“I’m fine,” he says, and an involuntary sigh breathes out of him when he feels Seongwu’s fingers rubbing soft circles over his arm. 

“I just wanted you to know...that I’m here for you, Daniel,” he says slowly, walking even closer if that were even possible. “You can share your problems with me. Tell me your worries. And maybe...I can relieve you from some of them...in some way.”

The hand on his arm has all but trailed up to his shoulder, fingers slowly crawling to rest at the base of his neck. He’s close now— _ really _ close—and Daniel doesn’t dare move a muscle to stave himself away.

His lack of resistance eggs the other prince on, and soon he feels the softness of cold, wet lips touching his own for a brief, almost fleeting, second. 

“Seongwu…” He whispers, out of breath, before the other prince dives back in for another kiss.

Harder this time, fiercer. Mouths open and tongues dance, and he feels the press of flesh and cloth over his bare chest. When Seongwu’s mouth travels down to his neck, his clavicle, and all the way down in a trail of kisses on his torso, Daniel doesn’t think it’ll hurt anyone in the matter when he closes his eyes and pretends that it’s someone else kissing him like this. 

He’s wrong though, because by the time he shoots the last of his load on Seongwu that night, he realizes that the only person he ends up hurting is himself.


	9. Fate Unchanged

Jihoon looks at his face in the bathroom mirror, splashing another wave of water over himself and slapping his cheeks a little in the process. His eyes are still swollen and puffy despite all his best efforts to tame it down, and he sighs in defeat when he officially runs out of solutions to try. He tries to push his hair down lower, hoping the blonde locks could at least serve some form of distraction from his face, before he finally leaves the bathroom to go on with his day.

He does his routine—or rather, the routine that’s developed for him ever since Prince Seongwu started staying in the castle. If before he waited by Daniel’s door every morning to walk with him to breakfast, he now heads to the kitchen alone to help prepare for the said meal. He tries not to think too hard or too much as he’s done so over the past few weeks. After all, today is not any different from yesterday.

Jaehwan’s already in the kitchen when he arrives, sitting alone on their usual table and eating his morning rolls and grains. He waves to Jihoon when he sees him, swallowing his food before speaking. 

“Jihoon, want to join me?” He asks in his light, melodic voice, his smile bunching up his cheeks. Jihoon merely bows low to him, gently shaking his head.

"No thank you, my lord. Prince Daniel will be down soon, I'd rather get his meal ready before then." It still feels weird to be talking to Jaehwan so formally no matter how many days it's been seen he's started, and he knows he's not alone in the sentiment either when the smile all but gets wiped off the young knight's face. He knows he's probably being a little petty, but it's hard to legitimately care when the Jaehwan hasn't really been the best person to him as of late.

"Actually, Daniel wants his breakfast in his chambers." Jinyoung comes out of the kitchen side interrupting their awkward exchange, carrying with him a large wooden tray served with today's breakfast. "One of the servants came by and told me earlier so I already got everything ready. You think you can handle taking everything to his room?"

Feeling Jaehwan's stare on his back, Jihoon just nods and mutters a small thanks to Jinyoung before effortlessly lifting the tray of food with impeccable balance before quickly heading out of the kitchen and down the halls.

He tries not to think too much about the matter or the strangeness of what he's actually doing, because in all his time in the palace Daniel has  _ never  _ requested for his breakfast to be served in his room. It isn't any of Jihoon's business anyway so he merely placates himself with the unknown.

He gets his answer though, in a fashion he would have never expected or preferred; for the voice that prompts him to enter the prince's bedchambers when he knocks on the familiar wooden doors isn't Daniel's but someone else’s.

"Ah, Jihoon. Let me help you with that." Prince Seongwu smiles widely and gets up from where he's laying on the bed to come up to him, helping him place the tray of food on the small round table that's over on one side of the room. "I'm sorry, this must've been heavy for you to carry all the way here. I didn't realize they'd only ask one person to bring this all up."

This is the part where Jihoon is supposed to respond, to give a respectful bow and a word of reassurance that the task was no trouble to him at all. But he fails quite shoddily at putting out anything when his head is still trying to wrap over the fact that Seongwu is literally  _ butt naked _ in front of him right now—his milky white skin almost glowing in the sunlight that’s passing through the windows, popping out in stark contrast against the hairs on his body.

“Seongwu? I thought I heard the door open. Did someone come—”

Daniel freezes from the doorway of his ensuite bathroom, his hair and body wet and gleaming and looking very much in the same primal state as the other prince in the room save for the towel cloth wrapped around his waist. He stares at them with wide eyes, expression aghast and stupefied into mute silence. Jihoon is doing no better, although the shock factor isn’t nearly as strong as the searing pain he’s slowly starting to feel in his chest.

“I asked one of the servants to bring us breakfast so we can just eat here this morning. Jihoon was just bringing it up for us.” Prince Seongwu offers in explanation, still smiling from ear to ear. “Thank you Jihoon. That will be all.”

Jihoon somehow wakes up from his trance a little to bow in return. He gives Daniel one last look, and whether or not he sees shame or concern or whatever else is in his eyes, he tells himself the same thing he’s been repeating in his head since marching up here this morning—it’s none of his business, and he shouldn’t care.

It shouldn’t matter that Daniel’s managed to move on  _ that _ quick. It shouldn’t be so much of a big deal that he had spent the night with the prince almost immediately after he came to talk to him. And he definitely shouldn’t be affected by the images supplied by his head of Daniel kissing and laying in bed with another man.

Maybe it’s foolish of him to even try not to let these things affect him, when everything about his life that supposedly shouldn’t happen is happening anyway.

  
  
  
  
  


It takes a few days—five to be exact—for Jihoon to legitimately feel okay and not feel like his insides are being gouged out whenever he’s around Daniel. He owes it mostly to the fact that he barely sees the prince much these days anyway, their interactions limited only during the times he’s required to serve him over meals. If before he had found it annoying that Jaehwan would constantly order him around and give him menial jobs around the palace, now the very thing he has slightly cursed has become a haven of sorts. He’ll gladly count the horses in the stable, polish an already polished sword, and even get the young knight some ale from the kitchen if it means being away from the prince.

It’s on such a day, however, that even in the farthest reaches of his deliberate attempts to distance himself fails in an unanticipated manner. Jihoon is sitting on the grass over at the western side of Castle Maroowen; his new place of comfort, so to speak, ever since he's been unofficially kicked out of the library. It's about the only area on the palace grounds where the trees and foliage are allowed to grow past their own limits. There's no smell of books or old wooden shelves, but the feeling this spot gives him is the closest thing he has to home. 

He’s busy watching Ori prowl and graze along the small woods, and it’s only when the sabertooth growls at something behind him that he notices the presence of another person in the area. Jihoon turns around to look, immediately getting up when he sees who it is.

"Is Ori still mad at me?" Daniel casually asks, looking past Jihoon to where Ori is stood a little behind them. Jihoon purses his lips, sharing a knowing look with the large cat.

"She's not really mad, just umm...sulking a little," he says slowly, and Ori growls not a second later. Yes she's mad, but he's not about to tell the prince that.

"Well, you can tell her that I personally fluffed all her pillows and cleaned her bed in case she stops  _ sulking _ and finally goes back to sleeping in my chambers," Daniel says in a voice his pet can hear. Ori just makes a sound that's a cross between an annoyed purr and a scoff before she starts prancing her way back to the small thicket of trees, leaving the two of them alone. The clear and serene air from seconds ago instantly gains some weight, thickened with awkwardness.

"Umm...is there anything I can help you with?" Jihoon asks to pierce the looming haze, looking up to meet Daniel’s eyes. His face is blank and he can’t really tell what he’s thinking, and the silent staring is no help in the matter either.

“I just came to tell you something,” Daniel says, nodding slowly. The hesitation and pull of his voice carries an air of suspense, one that Jihoon fails not to hold on to.

“I talked to my father the other day...regarding your sentence to work for us in the palace. Since you’ve proven yourself to be upright and dutiful in the few months you’ve spent here, I managed to convince my father to lift your punishment.”

To say that whatever just came out of Daniel’s mouth is unexpected would be a horrid understatement to what Jihoon currently feels on the spot. He can only blink in response, confusion clouding his thoughts from formulating anything coherent.

“W-what do you mean?” He ends up asking, weak and at a loss.

“You’re no longer a prisoner, Jihoon. By the end of the month, you’re allowed to choose your own path—whether it’s to go back home to your village or to continue working here with proper compensation, it’s all up to you. You’re free now.”

Jihoon doesn’t know what to think, even more so what to say. It’s been a long time since he’s even thought about his supposed life-sentence in the palace that the fact has all but escaped his mind entirely. He hasn’t felt like an oppressed prisoner in so long either and as ironic as it is, that’s all thanks to Daniel. The concept of being untethered to anything now has him feeling lost, but above all else  _ confused  _ as to why the news doesn’t make him as happy as he thinks it should. 

“Jihoon?”

Daniel’s voice brings him back to reality, and his vision lands on the concerned expression his face is making. Jihoon blinks a few times, ignoring to the best of his abilities the sharp sting that’s suddenly searing at his chest. 

“Thank you,” he says with a bow, glad that his voice at least comes out steady. “Is that all?”

The face Daniel makes then suggests that there’s something else he wants to say, but strongly hesitating to. He eventually just nods, breaking their gaze and turning away to walk back in the direction of the castle and leaving Jihoon alone with only Ori and his thoughts to accompany him.

He spends most of the rest of the afternoon and evening mulling over what Daniel’s told him, swallowing the news and internalizing what it means for him. The first thing he does even when he retires to his chambers for the day is pick up a quill and a piece of parchment to write a letter to his father, letting him know about the news of his release. He thinks about home then, reuniting with his father and going back to love in their small but cozy home. He thinks about Woojin, his best friend he hasn’t talked to in nearly half a year; letting himself feel the excitement over the prospect of telling him all about his tales and what he’s learned here in the castle. He pictures in his mind’s eye the forest beyond the southern gates, to where Ansel and Dorian and all the rest of his animal friends reside. It all only really starts to sink in as he’s writing his letter down, the excitement that he’s about to head home.

As he presses a seal onto his parchment, Jihoon then looks back on the time he’s spent here in comparison. He takes in the surroundings of his room first, reliving how it had felt when he first entered these four walls; how cold it barren it was, how foreign. Now there are books littered in the corner of his small desk, and a few used clothes he still hasn’t brought down to the laundry room folded neatly on top of his chest.

He thinks about the people he’s gotten to know, the castle staff and residents that have all but made him feel part of a family. He’s going to miss Sungwoon doting on him, and Daehwi’s sassy comments about everything. He’ll miss greeting Jinyoung every morning and eating what he cooks up for breakfast just as much as he’ll miss spending time with Ori and sparring with Jaehwan out in the courtyard. 

He looks to his right over to where his closet door is left slightly open, running his eyes over the pristine, blue suit sitting inside. He wonders if there will ever come a time where thinking about him wouldn’t hurt, a time where he can freely look back at the moments they shared together in fondness without feeling like the insides of his chest are being torn to shreds. Because as much as he’s told Daniel that he wants them to forget everything that’s happened between them, it’s a task Jihoon knows that’s beyond his abilities to carry out. Daniel’s made a mark on him that feels very much like the scar he’s carrying on his chest, an imprint that feels permanent and whole like it’s become a part of him. He wants to get past the hurt—he really does. But he knows the best he can do for himself now is surrender to time.

Jihoon ultimately stops his musings when he holds his letter in hand and begins to make his way to the castle aviary. He quietly greets the ravens perched atop their respective posts when he enters, bowing his head to the majestic birds when they bow back at him. He heads for one particular raven with the bright red eyes in the corner of the room, smiling at the creature and holding up the letter he just wrote.

“Sorry to trouble you Maximus, I just have a letter to send to my father,” he says, picking up a letter-holder and inserting his rolled parchment inside. Maximus simply caws a low rumbling hum before spreading his wings open to expose his legs, making it easier for him to attach the message. Jihoon gives the bird a pat on the head before he steps back and makes a small bow, watching as he starts to fly out the window and into the night.

He feels it before actually seeing or hearing anything thanks to the fifty or so birds that occupy the aviary, when they all collectively alert him of the presence of another person entering the room. It's not unusual, but when some of the ravens begin to caw a warning at him, he frowns a little in confusion when he turns around and sees who it is.

"Prince Seongwu." Jihoon bows low to him in greeting, schooling his confused expression into a smile. "What brings you here?"

"Oh, Jihoon." The prince nods at him, a hand coming up to scratch the back of his head. He opens his mouth to say more but the birds are still cawing and almost screeching on their perches. Even the ones that were sound asleep earlier are all ruffling their feathers now, a tension building in the closed space of the aviary.

Jihoon motions for the prince to head back out the door with him following right after. The sudden quiet in the hallway is bliss, and Jihoon catches the prince smiling sheepishly at him when he turns back after closing the door.

“I’m lucky I found you in there. Those birds were about to go ballistic on me,” he says with a slight laugh, teeth almost glowing in the dark.

“The ravens are actually really friendly, and they’re very well-trained too,” Jihoon says in their defense, reassuring the prince. “I don’t understand why they were being so frantic just now.”

“It’s probably because of the fact that animals hate me.” The prince shrugs, like this is something that happens to him often. “I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t interrupt you with anything. I was wandering around the halls just now and kind of got lost on my way to my chambers.”

“Oh. Then please, allow me to walk you back,” Jihoon says with a warm smile, gesturing the way with his hand before they start walking. “And no need for apologies, my lord. I was merely sending a letter to my father by raven before you came in.”

“What a relief then.” Prince Seongwu returns the gesture, sighing a little. “Does your father reside in Maroowen as well?”

He nods, his voice coming out quiet and polite. “Our house is in the southern village of the kingdom. I used to live with him before I moved here in the castle.”

“Oh, I see. Forgive me for my assumptions, but I kind of had this impression that you’ve been working here at the castle your whole life,” the prince says sheepishly, his breath coming out in soft, airy tones. “How long have you been working here then?”

Jihoon looks up a little in thought, mulling over the numbers. “It’s been more or less half a year, my lord.”

“I see, I see. That isn’t quite long then. With how close you are to Prince Daniel, I had assumed you stayed here for much longer than that.” Prince Seingwu nods, eyes staying forward on their path. “Tell me, have you two always been intimate with each other?”

The question freezes every other thought in his head cold that it becomes an effort to keep walking straight and not whip his head around in surprise. He manages, although barely. “Ah, you must be mistaken, my lord. Prince Daniel and I aren’t intimate,” he says, feeling quite proud of himself with his answer.

“But you like him right?” Prince Seongwu turns his head to face him, his expression as light and cheery as ever. “And it’s pretty obvious to me that he likes you too. Don’t worry, you can tell me.”

The smile he’s given then is wide and placid, and Jihoon can’t for the life of him understand why the prince is even assuming this and how he can be so casual about it asking him. They’ve all but stopped walking now at an intersection in the hallway, and Jihoon has to school his face to keep the shock from leeching out.

“I-I’m sorry, my lord. I’m afraid I don’t follow,” is all he says. Safe and harmless. Prince Seongwu just keeps his knowing smile up.

“You know back in my kingdom, one of my sisters had this servant who took a fancy to her. And our parents...well—I guess you can say that they are very much  _ traditional  _ in their mindset.” The prince narrows his eyes, pulling the memory from his mind. “The worst part was, my sister actually liked this servant back. You could only imagine how distraught she was when our father had the man beheaded.”

There’s a cold kind of dread that creeps up from the base of his spine all the way up to his neck. The same feeling he had earlier back in the aviary when the ravens were ruffling their feathers at him in warning. The feeling is the exact opposite of what Prince Seongwu is displaying though, with his warm, innocent smile and gentle face.

“Well, I shall not keep you much longer Jihoon. I think I know my way from here,” he says, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you for walking with me. I wish you a good night.”

It’s a little unnerving, and he’s left feeling baffled as he stares at the prince’s retreating figure and goes to head back to his own room. Jihoon wonders then if it really  _ is  _ that obvious—if the people around them could tell that there’s something between him and Daniel. He knows Daehwi at least has some sort of inkling with the way he’d been so adamant in not letting him help out with the wedding suit preparations, and probably even Sungwoon too with how subtle he’s being about not giving him any direct orders that relate to their prince. Jaehwan is probably the most vocal about it, as he’s come to know in the last few weeks, but for Prince Seongwu to see it too? That’s what’s leaving him a little breathless.

It doesn’t get any better and the paranoia doesn’t shake off, for in the next few days all Jihoon can even think about whenever he’s around the two princes is that Prince Seongwu  _ knows  _ about his feelings _. _ He can feel his gaze on him whenever he’s serving them during meal times, and the greetings passed to him when they cross paths with each other in the hallways that hold a lot more weight than a mere hello. It’s even worse whenever Daniel is in the same room, because whenever Seongwu leans over the other prince and starts whispering something in his ear that makes him chuckle a little, Jihoon can’t help and ignore the nagging feeling at the back of his mind that they’re talking about him.

In the long run, he thinks it’s quite safe to say that it’s a testament to his self control how he’s able to keep his composure in check when all he feels like doing every single time he’s even anywhere near the prince is scream and bawl his eyes out in anxious frustration; a feeling that has no difference in any way when the said prince one day calls for him in his room out of the blue.

“Ah, Jihoon, thank you for coming,” Prince Seongwu says, his expression the usual soft and warm. “I apologize for troubling you, but I just have a small favor to ask.”

Jihoon bows in grace, hoping that he doesn’t seem averse in any way. “No need for apologies, my lord. How may I assist you?”

“I’ve been nursing quite a terrible headache as of late and I wanted to ask for your help. Would you be so kind to go and ask Lord Jisung if he could fix me with a draught of wolfsbane? I would really appreciate it.”

“I’ll make my way to the infirmary right away then,” Jihoon says, bowing as he exits the room and feeling slightly relieved that it’s simply a harmless favor.

He’s only been to the infirmary a few times, but he knows his way to that part of the castle without trouble. He knocks on a simple set of double doors when he reaches, entering when the voice inside prompts him to come in. 

Jisung is sat in front one of the desks near the center of the room, reading from a thick leather-bound book that’s covering almost half the table in its enormity. He looks up at Jihoon’s presence, removing and folding away his spectacles as he gives him a warm smile in welcome.

“Ah, Jihoon. What brings you here today?”

Jihoon smiles back at the kind-faced maester in response, bowing his head a little in a respectful greeting. “I’m sorry for interrupting your readings, Lord Jisung. I’m just here to ask if you have any draught of wolfsbane on your hand? Prince Seongwu is currently suffering from a headache and I’d like to help ease some of his discomforts.”

“Wolfsbane?” Jisung repeats, frowning a little. “Don’t you mean wolfsroot, Jihoon?”

He gets up then, motioning for him to follow to the adjacent room where his modest-sized lab is situated. Jihoon blinks in awe at the room, eyes glancing over to the shelves upon shelves of vials and mysteriously-colored liquids. There’s a small herb garden just by the window where a few plants he doesn’t know the name of grow in the sunlight. There are stacks of books by the volume on one desk, and few pieces of scattered parchment all adorned with neat handwriting in another. Jisung heads to one of the cabinets though, pulling out a corked vial from the middle shelf.

“Wolfsroot is a natural relaxant that should help with a simple headache. Wolfsbane, on the other hand, is a lethal and fast-acting poison. It’ll be best not to get either of those two mixed up,” Jisung tells him in good nature, smiling all the while as he passes him the vial. “This should help with Prince Seongwu’s problem. Just add this into any drink he’s having, three drops should be fine.”

Jihoon looks at the vial in his hand before nodding and and putting it in his pocket. He thanks Jisung on his way out to head back to Prince Seongwu, sighing as he walks down the familiar hallway. And as much as he’s starting to grow uncomfortable around the dark-haired prince, he thinks it’s still best to simply follow what he’s told to do no matter the favor. There’s only a couple of weeks left before the month ends anyway, and by then Jihoon will never have to see the prince again when he finally leaves the castle to go home.

  
  
  
  
  


***

  
  
  
  
  


“You’re are truly a gift from the heavens Jihoon. I can never thank you enough.”

Jihoon bites his lips and keeps his gaze down on the floor as Prince Seongwu waves his compliments at him, not watching as the prince downs yet another glass of water with the added drops of wolfsroot in it. It’s been a full week since Jihoon has been adding the concoction to the prince’s drinks on mornings and evenings, but he still can’t get used to his habit of him being completely in the nude every time he comes into his room at the light of daybreak.

“I’m just doing my job, my lord. It’s a pleasure to help,” Jihoos says quite monotonously, glad at least that it’s  _ only _ Prince Seongwu in the room right now and no one else.

“Have you ever tried drinking wolfsroot, Jihoon?” The prince asks him quite casually, finally going over to his armoire to put on something to wear.

“I don’t believe I have, my lord. To be honest, I never even knew such a draught existed before.”

He hears the prince chuckle lightly at him, and he dares glance up to the relief that he’s finally clothed. “Well, should you experience any kind of inner discomfort, I highly suggest you try. It’s very soothing. Why, when Prince Daniel was here last night, I had no trouble at all from our...activities—after you had slipped some in my drink over supper.”

There it is again. Ever since Prince Seongwu told him he knows about his supposed feelings for Daniel, he’s been doing a lot of stabbing in disguised casualness around him. And as much as the prince has made it apparent to him that he and Daniel are  _ very _ active when it comes to these things, much like the habit of catching the prince naked, Jihoon’s still not grown numb to the jabs. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep a straight face, breathing silently through his nose while he tells himself that it’ll take a lot more than words to bring him down.

“That’s good to hear, my lord,” he says flatly, even managing to pull out a smile. “I’ll be sure to add some to your drink as well tonight.”

“Thank you.” The prince smiles, teeth gleaming in the morning sun. “Oh, and do make sure to keep Ori away from the eastern grounds today. Prince Daniel and I will be having a picnic and will probably spend the rest of the afternoon in that area.”

Jihoon nods in understanding. Any excuse to get himself as far as possible from the two princes is something he’ll gladly do without question. 

And he does just that; spending his time running a few errands for Sungwoon in the morning, walking and playing with Ori all the way over on the other end of the castle in the afternoon that by the time the sun sinks down the horizon, Jihoon’s left feeling rather weightless and even somewhat happy for the day.

It's days like these when it proves easier to keep his mind clear of thoughts of a certain prince, when he's left to his own devices to keep himself busy enough to let his guard down a little. It isn’t until he’s on his way back to his chambers and he passes by one of the studies along the way that his foolish thoughts of keeping a semblance of happiness is deftly broken.

He hears before he actually sees much of anything, but the fact that there are even sounds coming from this particular study lounge in this particular part of the castle at this exact moment tells him that this is as much of a coincidence as his deliberate methods of staying far away from the eastern grounds all day.

A lot of heavy breathing and groaning, soft thuds that could only be coming from some kind of wooden furniture, and the slap of skin on skin in a repeated rhythm that could only ever really mean one thing. He feels his heart pounding and his eyes starting to sting, but when Jihoon hears a breathy exhalation from a voice he’s all too familiar with, any hold he has of the string of his self-control breaks.

_ “Seongwu…” _

Jihoon makes a run for it, past the doorway of the study and through the halls leading up to his chambers. He doesn’t care that his footsteps have probably echoed loud enough for whoever was copulating inside to hear, and he doesn’t care that his tears are streaming down his face as he runs at full speed.

He doesn’t get to as far as his bed and just immediately sinks to the floor once the door to his room closes. He clutches a hand on his chest, scrunching the fabric of his tunic as he cries silently in the darkness. It burns in a kind of pain the sears away at the center of his heart, the heat travelling all over to the rest of his body and making him numb and debilitated at the same time. He hates Seongwu for being so vindictive and possessive, that as if Jihoon would ever even dare to steal his beau away from him. He hates Daniel for being so callous and apathetic, holding no regard whatsoever for what  _ he _ feels. Most of all Jihoon hates himself, for even letting himself go this far with feelings he never should’ve entertained. 

Just two more weeks before he can leave this place. Two more weeks until he can finally be free. The question now though, can he even last it?

He shifts from his position on the ground when he feels it, the small object that’s inside his pocket poking his thigh. He pulls the small vial out, stares at it’s form in his hand and remembers what that damned prince had told him this morning.

He gets up then, walks over to his desk where he’s left a glass and a pitcher of water bynthe side before pouring one for himself. He uncorks the stopper, carelessly pours its meager contents on to his drink and raises the glass to his mouth without hesitation.

Jihoon slams the glass back down on his desk with a hard thud, wiping the rim of his mouth with the sleeve of his tunic. Almost immediately he feels himself calming down, his feet lifting off the ground as he lands on his back to his bed. It’s working, and the soothing sensation he feels traveling inside him now completely erases any of the burning scorching him seconds ago. The last thing his mind clings to before a blackness wipes out his entire vision is the forest near his home and the feel of grass on his bare feet.

  
  
  
  
  


There has only been a handful of times before that Jihoon has had to get up before the sun has even begun to rise in the morning, all of them having the same reasons as is required by his duties. This particular morning, however, is done mostly out of insurance—or so he tells himself as he sneaks down the hallway quietly to get to the infirmary.

When he had come to a few minutes earlier, he had found himself lying on his bed with the same set clothes from yesterday still on his back and a lingering sensation at the back of his head that is if he was floating. It didn’t take much for him to remember the events of the previous day most especially when he saw the upturned glass on his desk and an empty vial lying right next to it. After panicking a little and ultimately deciding to rectify the situation himself, he’s run out of his room the very second his mind is oriented enough to operate his body.

He carefully opens the door to the infirmary now, sneaks in soundlessly towards Jisung’s laboratory on one side of the room. He opens the same cabinet he remembers, pulls out a similar looking vial and placing the empty one from his hands inside. He doesn’t think Jisung would think twice about an empty vial of wolfsroot drought in his stash so Jihoon leaves it at that and closes the cabinet in front of him, pockets the new vial he has right before hastily heading back out the door.

He breathes a little in relief once he’s finally out in the hallway, and he turns to head back in the direction of his chambers so he could—

“Jihoon?”

He freezes, back and shoulders stiffening in surprise and panic. He turns his head slowly to the side, doing his absolute best to look unfazed and natural when he comes face to face with the youngest of the black knights.

“J-Jaehwan.” He bows low, using the angle his body makes as an excuse to hide his flustered expression. “G-good morning.”

“What brings you here this early?” Jaehwan asks, an eyebrow raised in question. His eyes glancing from him and back to the infirmary doors. “Did Jisung call for you?”

“Ah, n-no. I was just, umm...grabbing some medicine for Prince Seongwu,” he says, choosing to go with the truth because he knows that he’s in absolutely no state to lie.

“At this hour? The sun hasn’t even risen yet.”

“Ah, well...you see—” He ought to get a hold of himself. He doesn’t even have anything to hide. “Prince Seongwu likes to take his draught the moment he wakes up. So I have to get it ready and make sure it’s by his bedside when he does.”

Jaehwan merely stares and blinks at him for a long while, his face blank and void of anything readable. Jihoon repeats it in his head that he’s just told the truth and that he really has nothing to hide, a statement that doesn’t bring him much comfort than it should.

“Okay. I’ll leave you to it then,” the young knight finally says, jutting his chin forward before he leaves and goes on his way. It’s only when Jaehwan turns the corner and leaves the hallway he’s on that Jihoon is able to breathe, the air filling and passing through his lungs in relief.

The inherent strangeness of his morning doesn’t end there either, and it reaches a point where he begins to entertain the idea whether he’s even really awake yet or if this is all some lucid dream caused by overdosing on wolfsroot draught. For when he enters Prince Seongwu’s room an hour after running into Jaehwan, he actually ends up being a lot more surprised to see that the prince is fully clothed as opposed to his usual state of bareness.

“Oh, good morning Jihoon.” He smiles at him as he enters. Jihoon returns the gesture and greeting before going over to place his cup of tea over on the small table in the middle of the room. He takes out his full vial then, adding three drops to the steaming tea as is routine 

“I have your drink ready, my lord.”

“Ah, good. Thank you.” Prince Seongwu makes his way over to him, taking a few tentative sips of his hot liquid. On the third sip his eyes dart up to meet his, a silent call. “Jihoon?”

“Yes?”

He places his tea cup down, back on the table beside the vial of the draught. He sighs, a breath so heavy that doesn’t quite match his usual light and soft demeanor. “I’ve been doing some thinking lately and...I’d like to say a few things to you,” he says slowly, gaze piercing with meaning. “I believe I owe you an apology.”

Jihoon blinks a little out of sheer unexpectedness, his mind at a loss for words. “W-whatever for, my lord?”

Prince Seongwu sighs a little again, eyes going down in what Jihoon thinks is shame. “I have not exactly been the kindest nor the most considerate person to you lately. I admit that I felt a little... _ jealous _ , of your relationship with Daniel. And while you have been so honest as to decline such allegations, all I ever did was act on my jealousy and treat you unfairly. I should have been more sensitive of your feelings. I am truly sorry.”

He doesn’t think the shock could come to him any lesser than it does when the prince actually begins to bow at him. Out of instinct, Jihoon immediately places both hands on his shoulders, helping him stand upright again.

“Prince Seongwu, you don’t have to apologize. It’s okay.” He smiles, nodding reassuringly.

“You’re much too kind, Jihoon.” His own warm smile is back, a hand going up his arm for a gentle squeeze. “I understand why everyone in this castle has taken a liking to you.”

He doesn’t know what the prince means by that, but it brings a modest heat to his cheeks regardless. “Is there anything else I can help you with this morning?” He says, diverting the topic away from himself.

“No, that’ll be all. Thanks again for bringing me my tea. Oh, and don’t forget this.” The prince reaches over to the table, passing him the vial. “I think my headaches are finally starting to subside, but I will probably be needing one final dose tonight at supper.”

Jihoon nods, pocketing the draught in his tunics. He bows to excuse himself then, and as he leaves the prince’s room and heads to where he meets up with Ori, Jihoon thinks it’s good that he’s made some sort of peace with the dark-haired prince. The pain of letting Daniel go is a hard stab to his chest, and seeing him be with another person is an even deeper gouge to an already open wound. None of that is ever going to change, at least not in the foreseeable future. But if he’s going to leave this life behind soon, he’d rather do it with acceptance rather than the alternative.

So he doesn’t think about it—not the image of Daniel kissing Prince Seongwu, not the way his chest aches in a constant throb, and not how he feels like a shell of a man merely going through the motions of his job to keep himself busy. 

When the sun sets and dinner is in motion, Jihoon’s reached the level of numbness that leaves him in a state where he at least isn’t tempted to steal glances at Daniel whenever he so as much places down a bowl of soup in front of him at the table. He brings in the dinner rolls along with the other severs, helps Jaehwan cut a portion when he asks for help, grabs some extra pepper from the wait station when the Kingsguard requests for it, and places another helping when the king asks for more of his meal.

“Sungwoon.” The king calls out and the Chamberlain almost immediately arrives inside the dining hall with a bow.

“Yes, your majesty?”

“Pass my compliments to Jinyoung, will you? This spicy minestrone tonight is truly delectable.”

Sungwoon chuckles then, bowing again in assent. Jihoon smiles gingerly when they make eye contact as he goes about to start pouring in some wine on everyone’s glasses. Efficient and methodical, careful and emotionless; he goes around the table one by one while tuning out the conversation they’re having from his head. He’s about to pour some to the king next when Prince Seongwu taps him on the arm. He holds out his full glass and only remembers that he’s supposed to be adding his draught to it.

“So Prince Seongwu, has my son asked you yet?”

A loud cough and a fumble erupts on the other side of the table where Daniel is sitting, much to everyone else’s mirthful cheer. “Father!”

“What? I’m simply asking how things are going between you two.” The king snides, smirking all the while.

“Not to worry, your majesty. I can assure you that if Daniel doesn’t do it anytime soon, I’ll be asking for his hand myself,” Prince Seongwu says, and it’s at that that Jihoon decides to take putting his medicine inside the wait station rather than in the dining hall with this topic floating around him. He places the prince’s glass in front of him once he’s out of the room, carefully adding three drops from the vial in his pocket, swirling the liquid a bit and counting to ten before heading back out. 

Everyone is laughing when he returns, and even Jaehwan is howling in glee with his high-pitched wail. He sees that Daniel’s face is a little red but he doesn’t pay it any mind especially when he proceeds to bite his lips in bashfulness. Jihoon places Prince Seongwu’s drink back and is muttered with a silent thanks when the king suddenly coughs amidst his laughter.

“Are you okay, your majesty?” Prince Seongwu asks from beside him, waved off by a dismissive hand.

“It’s just the spiciness of the soup, Prince Seongwu. I’m fine.”

“Oh, then please have a bit of my wine. I see that your glass is still empty.” The prince hands over his glass then, and Jihoon’s already halfway back to the wait station when he sees his error. He mentally scolds himself for forgetting to pour the king’s wine and sees that he's too late in offering when he's already drinking from the prince's.

“Thank you, my boy. That hits the spot.” The king returns his glass, clapping him on the arm in warmness. Jihoon finally gets the chance to walk over again to give some more wine when it all happens.

The king is still coughing, much harder and increasingly louder that doesn’t seem to be coming from the spice of their dish alone. A strong hand clutches to his side of the table, and another goes to his neck—scratching the skin there so hard that the surface starts looking a little red in just a few motions. 

“Your majesty, are you okay?” Prince Seongwu says worriedly, suddenly turning to face him. “Jihoon, could you please get some water? Quickly.”

He nods then, quickly doubling back to replace the wine jug he’s holding with another containing clear water. He rushes back to the dining hall just in time to see the first spatter of blood come out of the king’s mouth.

“Father!” Daniel is up in an instant, rushing over to the king’s side in long strides. “Father! What’s wrong?!”

But the king doesn’t stop coughing, nor is he showing any signs of subsiding in his convulsions; the sound coming out hoarse and ragged at first is now gurgling with unnatural throb, wheezing deep that could be felt from the very core of his lungs. Everyone is up from the table, and rushing to his side, even Sungwoon has entered back the hall in a panic.

“Father! Father!” Daniel turns to them, eyes blown wide and brimming with tears of fear. “Somebody get Jisung here now!!”

Jihoon sees the Chamberlain rush back out the very next second, leaving him alone to watch in horror. He stands frozen on the spot, helpless and clueless on what to do. There’s so much blood now, and Daniel’s once pristine, pale blue suit is now smeared with patches of crimson as he holds on to his father’s writhing body. 

By the time Jisung arrives the king has already fallen off his chair and is now cradled in Daniel’s arms on the floor. The coughing is finally beginning to subside, but rather than from a passing bout, it looks and sounds more like the final wheezes of a person’s breath. Daniel is screaming, desperately yelling at Jisung to do something. Tears roll down his eyes in torrents, but the fact that Jisung is also starting to cry himself shows that he’s too late. When the king finally quiets down, no sound is heard again—neither a breath nor a whimper, but merely the silence of eternal rest.

“No—no, no, no—Father, please…”

Jihoon can feel tears coming to his own eyes as well, feeling the weight slowly crashing down on the room. He wants to do something— _ anything— _ and he’s about to go get some rags to clean up the blood when an iron grip suddenly latches on to his arm. He’s turned around in a painful jerk, forced to face the blazing eyes of Jaehwan.

“What did you do,” the knight whispers with a shaking voice, a pent up growl underneath before he repeats much louder. “What did you do?!”

Suddenly all eyes are on them, and the shock and confusion for whatever is happening leaves Jihoon incoherent and speechless. Jaehwan’s dark gaze is stunning him to silence.

“Jaehwan!” His father, the Kingsguard, calls for him. Voice loud and commanding with a barely concealed note of anguish. “What are you—”

“Smell Prince Seongwu’s cup, father,” is all Jaehwan says. Jihoon’s wrist is starting to hurt from his grip, shaking in anger. The Kingsguard picks up the said item, bringing it close to his nose before his eyes widen in understanding; right before the same heat colors his features as well.

“Prince Seongwu gave the king his cup to drink just now, but I saw Jihoon bring the very cup back inside to put something in it,” Jaehwan explains, his voice still rumbling low in rage.

“I-I asked him to put my medicine Ser Jaehwan,” the prince says from where he’s kneeling beside Daniel, face just as frantic as everyone else’s. “I’ve been asking Jihoon to do that for me every dinner.”

“Yes, but this time it didn’t look like it’s  _ medicine _ he was giving you,” Jaehwan says, his eyes still never leaving his own. Jihoon isn’t given the time to explain before the young knight is forcibly shoving a hand through his tunics, groping inside his pockets until he harshly pulls out a small vial from inside one. “Jisung. Tell us what’s inside.”

Jaehwan holds his hand out while Jisung makes to get up. He grabs the vial, uncorks the stopper and gives it a smell. The face he makes right after and the next word out of his mouth drowns out everything else in Jihoon's senses.

“Wolfsbane.” He looks at him with the same wide eyes, but more confused and shocked rather than hot and angry. "W-why would you have wolfsbane on you?"

“That's because Jihoon had attempted to poison the prince tonight, but the king took a sip of his drink before him."

Jaehwan's statement finally shakes him hard enough to wake up from his shock, his voice coming out in a panicked shrill. “W-wha—I didn’t—”

The grip on his wrist tightens and he begins to feel genuine fear for what Jaehwan is implying. Jisung steps in though, shaking his head.

“But I don’t understand,” he says, frowning at the small vial in his hands. “I personally gave this to Jihoon myself and I swear I gave him wolfsroot.”

“That’s right.” Prince Seongwu rises from the floor now too, coming in his defense. “Jihoon’s been giving me the same medicine for a week now. I even saw him doing it a couple of times myself.”

“Except that was all a week ago. I caught him sneaking in and out of the infirmary earlier this morning before the sun was even up,” Jaehwan counters, his resolve unwavering. “So tell us now, Jihoon. What in God’s name were you doing inside Jisung’s laboratory?”

The answer doesn’t reach his tongue, and the fear and hysteria freeze every part of his bodily functions. He opens his mouth to nothing, feeling his tongue go slack and just as numb as the wrist Jaehwan’s holding. He thinks back to earlier when he was indeed sneaking inside the lab, but his memory is jarred by shock. Is he even sure he picked up the right vial? Did he  _ really _ just hand over poison to the prince? 

Did he just kill the king?

"Answer me!!"

“J-Jaehwan—I-I was only—please...” He looks around the faces of the people around him, everyone's eyes a mixture of concern and doubt; fear and disbelief. “It wasn’t me. I didn’t—I didn’t know.”

“Even if he  _ was _ sneaking inside my lab—” Jisung speaks up again, worry lacing his tone. “—he couldn’t have taken wolfsbane as I have none lying around. He would have had to make it, and creating wolfsbane venom requires an extremely high level of knowledge in alchemy. There’s no way Jihoon could’ve made such a complex poison—” 

“Yes he could.”

Everyone turns their heads now, and Jihoon feels his heart shattering into a million pieces when he too locks eyes with the source of the voice. Daniel’s rising from the floor, gazing at him with a coldness he can feel down to the very core of his bones. What really stops him dead though isn’t the icy glare nor the bitter stab of his voice, but what’s swimming beneath the surface of his emotions—the hurt and the betrayal that speaks of so much pain greater than anything Jihoon's ever had to endure before. This look alone kills every ounce of will he has of ever convincing anyone of his innocence.

“Jaehwan, arrest Jihoon and hand him over to the guards. Send him to the dungeons on the grounds of attempting to murder Prince Seongwu and for poisoning the king.”

“Prince Daniel—”

“We will  _ not _ defend a guilty criminal of his actions, Lord Jisung. That’s an order.”

The guards come in now and they roughly begin to bind his arms behind his back. The ropes are probably being wrapped around too tight but he doesn't feel it. He doesn't feel the loose pricks of sharp twine cutting through his skin, nor the uncomfortable angle they have his arms in. He doesn't feel the tears making their way down his cheeks once the guards begin shoving him either, and all that's demanding to rise up above all his emotions is the broken numbness burning and eating at his chest.

He looks at Daniel's tear-stricken eyes for one last time, takes the hurt and anger he's throwing at him, before he's finally brought out of the hall.

The clang of the metal railings of his dungeon cell echo along the cold cement walls as they're swung closed, and the click of a lock finalizes the symphony. He doesn’t pay any mind to what the guards say to him in repulse and insult, and he doesn’t even try to flinch or evade when they both spit at him in disgust.

When he’s left alone with only an inch of light passing through a crack on the brick wall, Jihoon slides down to the floor of his cell chuckling bitterly to himself amidst his tears. The pain and the numbness cracking open his chest raw is so overpowering that the only thing that really stands out from his thoughts at the moment is the irony of sitting in here again accused of a crime he didn’t even do. 

He’s back where he started, back to being that boy who’s never learned—foolish in thinking things were finally going good for him, stupid in believing his life could ever actually change.


	10. Twenty Year Revenge

Daniel had only been eleven years old when he was first told about the curse he was carrying. It was on his birthday, during which they held a small party here in the palace. Despite only having Jaehwan, Sungwoon, Jinyoung, and Daehwi as his guests, he remembers being excited about that day as would any child his age. 

It was at the exact moment before he went to blow out the candles on his birthday cake; the skin-searing pain that erupted in his chest when his scar appeared for the first time, marking his half-lived life. His father had told him then afterwards, there on his bed just as he had stirred awake. He told him about the curse, the real reason why his mother had died, and what they needed to do to prevent him from suffering the same fate.

Daniel remembers hating his father back then. Not because he had been the cause for why the sorcerer even placed the curse on him in the first place, but because he had missed his chance to make a birthday wish at his party. He was naive and much too young, and it was only during his teenage years that he had begun to understand most of what his father had done for him.

Letting the love of his life go just to give their child a chance at a life they will never share. Keeping the curse a secret from him so he could enjoy a normal childhood. Doing everything in his power to make sure he's cared for and safe.

Daniel feels a single tear escape his eye now, but he lets it fall in favor of using both his hands to clasp his father's cold ones, squeezing tight.

"Thank you...for everything, father," he whispers, fighting to keep his voice steady. "I promise...I won't let you and mom down."

He bows low then, finally brushing the back of his hand over his face to wipe his tears when he rises. He turns around and heads for the exit of the small sept, towards where Jaehwan is standing in wait. His best friend wraps him in a hug when he reaches him, and Daniel has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep any more tears from coming out.

They haven’t even made five steps out yet when he sees Jisung waiting for them in the hallway. He bows to them in greeting, and Daniel doesn’t miss the concern that’s present in his eyes when he rises to look at him.

“Let me guess. Bad news?” He says ahead of him, and the sigh Jisung lets out serves as answer enough.

“Rumors are already spreading to the village, your grace. At the rate this is going, public unrest will soon rise even higher.” Jisung shakes his head low, a crease forming on his brows. “I’m afraid we cannot wait for another fortnight.”

Daniel closes his eyes for a second to let the information sink in, releasing a breath with his words. “Then we shall make the announcement. Tomorrow.”

It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, that his first royal order as the king of Maroowen is to announce the death of his own father. The wound is still fresh in his chest and he honestly wants nothing more than to stay in his room and cry under his bed covers, but his duties keep him standing.

“Is there anything else?” He asks Jisung when he realizes that he’s still standing there, hesitation marking his features.

“It’s about Jihoon…”

The bitterness multiplies ten-fold at the mention of the name, and Daniel can feel a small bubble of rage coming from inside of him—his hands forming into tight fists at the thought alone.

“What about him?” The venom in his voice makes Jisung’s eye flinch a little, but not enough to get him to drop the subject.

“It’s been a week, Daniel. I understand that this is a very tough time, but we cannot just keep him locked up in the dungeons forever.”

“Who says we can’t?” He raises an eyebrow, challenging. “He killed my father, Jisung.  _ And _ almost killed Seongwu. The fact that he’s only locked up in the dungeon is a blessing—he should consider himself lucky that he’s still even breathing right now.”

Jisung frowns then, and Daniel internally sighs at the direction he knows this conversation is heading.

“He should have a trial, at the very least. We haven’t even heard his side of—”

“There will be  _ no _ trial.” Daniel’s voice echoes along the hall, carrying a chill that renders the grand steward silent. “I have no intention of listening to any more lies. What’s done is done, and the sooner we all put it behind us, the better.”

“But what if he didn’t do it, Daniel? What if it was all an accident, or worse—he’s being framed,” Jisung says, the last part coming out a little hushed. “You know Jihoon better than anyone here in the castle. You’ve lived with him for half a year. Do you honestly think he’s even capable of attempting to kill another person?”

As much as Daniel wants to hold on to the hope Jisung is presenting him with, he doesn’t know for himself if he even can. It’s been a week since the incident, and  _ of course _ Daniel’s mulled it over in his head more than enough times of whether there’s even the possibility that Jihoon is innocent. He  _ wants _ him to be innocent, he really does, but there’s just no way out of the thought that everything he thought he knew about Jihoon was possibly a lie.

“I understand you’re yearning for him to not be the person we’ve accused him of, Jisung. Trust me, I really do.” Daniel shakes his head, eyes hardening with concern. “But I implore you not to make the same mistakes that I did. And whether we like it or not, we just have to accept the fact that he’s not the person we thought he was."

"Then let's say he  _ is  _ guilty." Jisung counters. "He still needs a proper sentence."

"I agree." This time Jaehwan pipes in from beside him. Daniel turns to look at his best friend, eyes incredulous. "Not that I think he's innocent, but Jisung is right. You can't let your personal feelings for him take control of the situation. Jihoon should at least have a trial."

Daniel frowns at his knight's words, feeling cornered by his two friends. If he's being completely honest with himself, leaving Jihoon in the dungeon is the best excuse he has of preventing him from being convicted. Jaehwan's right, he  _ is _ putting his personal feelings on the line.

"Get the preparations ready for tomorrow's announcement," is all he says to Jisung, then to Jaehwan, "Tell your father and alert the guards."

"Daniel—"

"I'd like to be alone," he says before he turns the other way and starts walking the other direction.

The death of his father, Jihoon’s betrayal, his sudden accession to the throne—it’s all falling down in an enormous weight that he isn’t sure he’s even strong enough to carry. He just wants to handle one hurdle at a time, get his footing right so he doesn’t stumble over this barrage of problems that's coming at him in full force. 

His aimless wandering leads him to the throne room, and he snorts derisively at himself for the subconscious act. Of all the places in the castle his feet would take him to, it just had to be here. Daniel stands at the center of the room then, at the foot of the dais facing the throne and taking in the sight of the golden seat. Alone, he lets himself feel the same emotions he was having back at the sept where his father lay, basking in the silence that's broken within a minute.

"Your majesty," a familiar voice says from behind him, and he turns around to come face to face with dark eyes and a glowing smile that never fails to make him feel a little better. Daniel reaches out with his hand, one Seongwu gladly takes it in his.

"How are you?" The other prince asks when he comes close, wrapping his long arms around his waist.

"Better than the day before," he answers with a nod. Seongwu's smile deflates a little.

"But not yet better." He moves a hand to cup one side of his face, and Daniel relaxes into his cold palm. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Daniel closes his eyes, pulling him closer in an embrace. "Just be here. This is enough."

They stay like that for a while, unmoving and silent. It relaxes him a little, but at the same time it brings about the same wave of thoughts that always visit his mind whenever he's close and intimate with the other prince like this. Thoughts of a smaller, yet broader figure pressing against him; a bush of bright blonde hair on honey-toned skin that's always warm to the touch. And as always, Seongwu doesn't miss the way his body shifts in attention.

"You're still thinking about him," he says when he pulls away a little, and Daniel feels a tremendous amount of guilt at the hurt that's only barely there in his voice. 

"I'm sorry." He doesn't even try to deny it, which completely warrants them take their hands off of each other. 

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Daniel bites his lips, hesitating. He knows he shouldn't, most especially not with Seongwu. But this entire week has been laden with sleeplessness and overthinking that he feels if he has to keep his thoughts to himself any longer, he's about to go insane.

"Jaehwan and Jisung think we should give Jihoon a trial. Make him face his crimes the proper way.” He shakes his head, feeling shameful in his surrender. “They’re right though. We have laws and we can’t just be throwing people in the dungeons indefinitely like this.”

“Then why don’t you? Give him a trial, I mean.” 

Daniel faces back to the throne then, pursing his lips as he remembers that day all those months ago. When Jihoon had been thrown in front of them, his fate changed. He thinks about what it would mean now if that were to happen again—what the inevitable would bring.

"I don't want to be the one to order his execution," he finally says in answer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "He may have killed my father, but...I don't think I'm capable of doing the same to him."

Seongwu nods slowly, following his motion and turning to face the throne as well. "Every king in history has always had to carry this burden. Making decisions they don’t want to make,” he says, a heaviness weighing down his words. “But it comes with the duty. And it’s in facing those decisions that make one to be a great king.”

Daniel chuckles at that, albeit a bit darkly. “Did I ever tell you that I never even wanted to be king in the first place?” He shakes his head, throwing his best look at irony to the throne. “There’s just...so much to carry. And now with my father gone...I just feel so alone.”

He feels a cold hand touch his again, finger intertwining. He doesn’t look at Seongwu though, still feeling ashamed.

“You’re not alone,” the other prince says anyway, squeezing his hand in reminder. “And don’t let Jihoon’s betrayal push your spirit down. Sure you made a mistake in trusting him, but it’s these mistakes that’ll help you grow Daniel.”

“You know a part of me is still holding on to the fact that he’s innocent,” he says, eyes coming down to look at the floor. “It all feels like a horrible nightmare. I still can’t believe he would actually think to hurt you.”

“I know what you mean.” Seongwu pulls his hand back, if only to wrap them around himself in a manner of security. “Jihoon never came across to me as malicious either. I want to believe so badly that it had all been an accident but...just thinking about what would’ve happened if I had drank from that cup too—” He shakes his head, a heavy sigh coming out through his nose. “I guess it’s true what they say. That you can never truly trust an elf.”

Daniel’s about to mutter something in assent when the last word out of Seongwu’s mouth traps itself in his ears. He turns his head a little to the right to look at him, watching his worried expression and demeanor when he asks, “How did you know he was an elf?”

Seongwu returns with a puzzled expression of his own, head cocked a little to the side. “I thought everyone knew?”

“No.” Daniel shakes his head, frowning a little. “As far as I know, I’m the only person he’s ever told that.”

The puzzled expression turns into a slight look of surprise, and Daniel can immediately tell that the next words out of the prince’s mouth is a lie. “Oh, yes of course. I forgot. He told me as well.”

“When?”

“I think it was during one of the mornings he was giving me my medicine,” Seongwu says with a shrug. “I had asked him how he and Ori got along so well, and he just told me in passing.”

Daniel nods then, doing his best to school his face not to reveal a frown or an expression other than agreement and belief. He doesn’t understand why Seongwu is lying to him, and although he knows that there’s a huge gap for discrepancy with what he’s saying—the fact that Jihoon could possibly be the one who actually lied about keeping his ancestry a secret—doesn’t feel like the case at al.

He remembers the look Jihoon had on his face that night when he willingly went into his room to tell him. He remembers the way he had said it, the urgency of keeping it a secret; it couldn’t have been anything but pure honesty. It doesn’t make any sense for Seongwu to claim that Jihoon had just ‘told him in passing’.

His thoughts are drifting, and suddenly he goes back to the night it all happened. How his father died drinking from the cup Jihoon had supposedly poisoned. The cup that was meant for Seongwu, who had only been expecting to get medicine.

“How long did you say you had Jihoon give you that medicine for your headache?” He suddenly asks, and to hide his suspicion he adds, “I think I might ask Jisung for some as well. I really need something to help me through the next few days.”

“Oh. About a week or so, I believe.” Seongwu answers, factual and completely different from his tone just seconds ago. “Do you want me to ask Lord Jisung for you?”

Daniel nods, but only as a distracted gesture more than anything. Seongwu had been asking Jihoon to add his medicine to his drinks for an entire week. That meant when the prince had offered his cup to his father that night, he  _ knew  _ Jihoon had already put something in it. Regardless of whether it had been poison or an actual soothe, the question remains of why Seongwu had even offered it to someone else in the first place. 

He's about to ask another question, but the moment he turns to look at the prince again he's suddenly met with a sword pointed at the base of his throat. A cold chill runs down his spine that doesn’t seem to be coming from the shock alone, especially when he can see that the sword in front of him is glowing—emitting a pale violet luminance in wisps of smoky tendrils.

“S-Seongwu, what are you—?”

The blade touches his skin, and he can feel the frigid frost numbly travelling down to his chest—over to where his scar is—as if it’s reacting to it. He looks on with wild eyes, ones that the other prince only returns with a blank starkness.

“I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t catch on that fast, but I guess I underestimated you. You may not be the brightest candle in the chandelier but I’m quite impressed you’re already starting to piece it together,” Seongwu says, his voice coming out and playing a different note, one Daniel’s never heard before. “Unfortunately your intelligence isn’t something I can tolerate, unless I want my plans ruined.”

Daniel opens his mouth but closes them the next second. What in the world is going on? There are so many questions flying to his attention but he can’t seem to voice out any of them. His face merely turns into a painting of confusion to which Seongwu only chuckles at. 

“I guess you haven’t actually pieced it that much after all,” he continues, the gentle press of his blade still chilling his neck. “Well, considering you’ve been very  _ pleasurable  _ in bed all this time, I suppose I can grant you the liberty to ask before I slit your throat. You get three questions.”

Daniel’s head is reeling, running back and forth trying to catch up with what is happening and how he’s gotten himself in this situation. He doesn’t understand with only the few fragments of information floating in his head, so he follows Seongwu’s offer and asks the first thing he can think of.

“Who are you?”

Seongwu—or whoever he is—smiles at his question. It’s the same in that his gleaming white teeth glow with charisma, but the usual innocence and warmth he’s come to know that accompanies that smile is replaced with something much more sinister. The sword presses deeper in his neck and he can feel the first patch of his skin breaking. Oddly enough, the cut doesn’t hurt as much as what he feels down in his chest. Not pain, but more like a cold, heavy hand suddenly grabbing his heart and spreading an icy sensation that travels all over his body.

“Oh, Daniel. Why, I’m simply the person who gave you that scar on your chest.” 

The chill envelopes his body again, weighing him down along with shock and disbelief. He’s never told Seongwu the story of his scar yet, and the fact that he knows can only mean he isn’t lying. Daniel would shake his head if the action wouldn’t get his skin cut more, but he’s sure his face does his feelings justice enough.

“T-that’s not possible. That was over twenty years ago,” he says, grasping at coherence. Seongwu tuts at him, smiling wiley.

“I’m afraid it is, my dear prince. You see, magic has a way of... _ reversing _ the aging process. Not without a price of course, but I believe that the actual prince from Fantagoia didn’t die in vain when I performed the ritual on him. I’m nearly at the peak of my agenda thanks to his rather unwilling sacrifice.”

Daniel hears the words loud and clear, but he’s still having trouble getting a grip on them and believing it for himself. Magic, aging rituals, sacrifice? He’s being foolish for even harboring confused doubt, especially when a magical sword is quite literally within his reach and ready to kill.

“Why are you here then?” He asks next, his confusion slowly ebbing and making way for his blooming anger. “If you are who you say you are, then why did you come back? Isn’t it enough that you  _ cursed _ me?”

Seongwu’s gaze grows dark at that, and Daniel can feel the sword cutting a little deeper; a bead of blood starting it’s descent down his neck.

“It would’ve been enough, had it not been for your meddler of a mother,” he says, nearly spitting the words out. “I was content with the anguish I left here in this very room twenty one years ago when I placed the curse on you. I’ll have you know that I went through great lengths to perfect that kind of magic—so imagine my disappointment over your supposed demise when a mere priestess from the church of light managed to counteract it. Obviously I couldn’t just sit around and wait for you to get married and reverse the spell, now can I? Then where would all my hard work and effort go?”

He tilts the sword a little, pointing it at an upward angle right at the soft spot under his jaw. Daniel tries to shift his head away, but Seongwu just presses harder. 

“I began to devise a plan when I found out. One that would  _ ensure _ that the revenge I want is fully committed. It was all very easy, actually. Once I heard how adamant your people were at finding you a blooded royal to wed, all I had to do was pretend to be the man of your dreams and swoop your off your feet.” Seongwu laughs then, the act doing nothing to sway his steady hold on his sword. “Initially I had planned to marry you off first and simply watch you die when your twenty-second birthday came  _ before _ killing you father. Can you just imagine the look on his face when he realizes that his one true love had sacrificed herself in vain when you die too?”

The cut is starting to grow and sting, and Seongwu doesn’t relent in his force. It doesn’t make any sense, yet at the same time it’s the only thing that does. “So Jihoon...Jihoon’s innocent,” he says, a statement more than a question. Seongwu just tilts his head in glee.

“When I realized the extent of your feelings for one another, I knew I couldn’t pull off with my plan without getting rid of him first,” he says, a slight hint of annoyance in his voice. “A shame I had to kill your father too soon, but I think it’s still a good consolation to watch that half-breed’s heart break the same night your father convulsed to death in front of us."

Daniel's anger flares even stronger, white-hot amidst the cold chill. "You framed him."

Seongwu nods once, smiling wider. "And you put him behind bars. Honestly it wasn't even that hard. Planting the poison, building the evidence against him—I didn't even have to do much to make sure Jaehwan would point his finger at him."

Daniel suddenly recalls that night, but most especially the look Jihoon had given him right as he placed the blame on him and had him sent to the dungeon. The hurt in his eyes, his pain-contorted face. He can't believe he's put him in that situation again, blamed for a crime he didn't commit.

"Your three questions are up," Seongwu cuts through his thoughts, starting to push his sword deeper. "I hope that knowledge will give you some peace when you bleed to your de—"

The creek of a door opening startles the both of them a little, and Daniel uses that millisecond window to push the blade away from his neck and kick Seongwu in the gut. He makes to scramble out of the way, but the shadow of a sword coming from overhead freezes him and he instinctively covers his body with his arms and waits for the pain.

It doesn't arrive, and instead the clang of metal on metal snaps his eyes open to the sight of Jaehwan parrying Seongwu's strike with his own sword. His royal guard pushes back, swishing his blade in defense.

"What's going on here?!" Jaehwan asks heatedly, his eyes never leaving the other person in the room holding a sword. Seongwu narrows his eyes at them, completely dropping his charade.

"He's the one who killed my father, Jaehwan," Daniel mutters, not letting his guard down. "He framed Jihoon."

If Jaehwan is even the least bit surprised by the information, he doesn't show it. Instead he fixes his grip on the hilt of his sword and straightens his stance, sighing as he does.

"I suppose I won't be getting an explanation, am I?"

Seongwu laughs at him, shaking his head at his statement before lunging forward in the next second. Jaehwan blocks the hard strike with his sword and kicks him in the torso, pushing back before brandishing an onslaught of his own.

“Daniel, get out of here! Call for the guards! I'll keep him busy."

Jaehwan doesn't wait for him to answer and continues attacking with finesse. Blades clash and bodies dance in a lethal display of choreography, but Daniel has enough faith in his knight to have the courage to turn around and head for the doors. He doesn't get more than five steps though, when a searing, cold pain suddenly pierces through his chest.

"AH!"

He feels the ground hit his knees when he yells out and folds over, his hand going over to his chest to feel for the wound. But there's nothing there, just the fabric of his tunic over his chest intact and whole. Yet the stabbing pain doesn’t stop. 

"Daniel!"

He manages to open his eyes despite the pain and watches as Jaehwan knocks Seongwu back on his feet. The pain stops for a while, but the second it takes for the knight to switch his gaze over to him leaves him open for an undercut. Jaehwan only barely dodges, the blood from his cheek flying to stain the floor.

The pain resurfaces, and the sounds of clashing swords echo along the throne room once more. Daniel braves the agony and proceeds to slowly crawl the rest of the way to the door. Tears of pain start to fall, and he's beginning to see spots in his vision the more he moves his body. He’s only a few feet away when he hears someone shouting at him again, then suddenly a huge weight throws itself at him and he’s rolling over on the floor in a heap. Daniel opens his eyes to see Jaehwan cradling him, a large gash on his left arm soiling his clothes with blood. 

“J-Jaehwan—”

“I must say, you really are the formidable swordsman Ser Jaehwan,” Seongwu says ahead of them, standing a few feet away and swishing his blood-stained sword back and forth. “The rumors about the youngest member of the Black Knights don’t lie. It’s a shame I’m going to have to kill you now as well—”

The tip of a sword suddenly pops out of Seongwu’s stomach, spewing blood that drips over the throne room carpet. He coughs out some more, his eyes wild and surprised as he looks at the sudden wound puncturing his body. The kingsguard takes a step back then, pulling his sword out of Seongwu and letting him fall to the ground in a limp. 

“The next time you plan to reveal your evil agendas, I suggest you make sure you’re alone in the room first before opening your big mouth,” Jaehwan’s father says, keeping his sword pointed at the enemy. Just then the doors to the throne room slam open in a booming echo, and eight knights clad in black armor come rushing forth to surround them in a circle. Swords leave their sheaths and gleam in vibrance as they all point to the bleeding impostor. 

“Dark sorcerer, you are under arrest for murder of the king. Under the laws of Maroowen, you are hereby sentenced to death right at this moment. Any final words?”

Daniel finally manages to pick himself up with Jaehwan’s help. The pain in his chest has subsided, but the sensation still lingers a little. He gives Jaehwan a look, a silent question asking whether he’s okay too that his best friend nods at. When his eyes travel back to Seongwu though, he frowns when he sees him smiling.

“Oh, Haejun.” The sorcerer coughs another bout of blood, his pale, white skin stained in red. He brings one of his hands to the wound in his stomach, dabs at the blood there before bringing the digit to his mouth. He looks back at the kingsguard towering over him, smirking when he says, “You should’ve gone for my heart.”

Seongwu snaps his blood-coated finger and in an instant, Jaehwan’s father doubles over on the ground in pain. He lets out a groan and a low grunt of discomfort, a hand going over to his stomach that’s suddenly starting to stain red. There’s blood when he coughs, and Daniel feels Jaehwan’s hands on him coil in panic.

“Father!!”

The knights poise to strike, but Daniel sees Seongwu’s eyes glow a bright purple right before a blinding haze of coldness pulses in the air around them and throws them all backwards off their feet. He thinks his back hits one of the columns in the room based on the dull throbbing ache in his head, and the last thing he sees before he hears the screams of shredding agony is the silhouette of a beast and its razor-sharp claws impaling Jaehwan’s father to the wall.


	11. The Fallen Hero

Jihoon makes another scratch on the wall with a jagged pebble, marking a new line on the set he’s started with. It’s been eight days since he got locked up in here, eight days since he felt his heart and soul get ripped out of his body. Now more than ever he thinks about home—his father and Woojin, his friends from the forest. Yesterday should’ve been his last day here in the castle, the moment he finally walks free from his servitude to head back to his village and leave this life behind. He had looked forward to it for so long that the irony of his situation now is jarring, and he’s afraid of the worry he’ll surely inflict on his father when he remembers that he had specifically told him in his last letter that he’d be coming home by now.

Instead he sits here, staring at his stale bread sitting on the tray on the other side of his cell and doing nothing but mope around and turn stale himself. He dares to let his thoughts wander to the people above him, specifically for the person who had ordered he be put here in the first place. It brings a stabbing pain to his chest but the worry isn’t something he can’t help but form. 

Questions of whether Daniel is doing okay rise up from his murky thoughts, wonderings of how he’s coping and going about his days itch at the back of his mind. It brings about a constant weight in his chest that’s debilitating at best, but by now he’s run out of tears to shed that he just lets the thorns fester in his chest until he can cry again. He forms his hand into a fist, digging his nails into his palm to feel  _ something  _ other than the emptiness clawing at his heart.

His hand is only beginning to sting when he suddenly feels something else—something external happening beyond him, a rumble that vibrates along his back that's currently leaning against the stone wall. It's faint, one that can only be felt when all the other senses of the body have dulled out in numbness; a sort of echo hinting at something near and yet a little far. It's not even ten seconds later when he feels it again, stronger this time that the dust on the crevices of the bricks shake and fall off their hinges. A few mice even scamper in the dark corners of the dungeon, their tiny squeaks an alarm of warning.

"What's going on?" He whispers to one of the mice that pass by his cell. The small rodent stops to face him, it's dark and beady eyes giving a silent answer of 'I don't know' before it scurries away with the rest of its family. 

The urgency and tension in the air is increasing, and when another and much stronger quake hits that has the entire dungeon shaking in its magnitude, Jihoon knows in his bones two facts that rise in priority.

First is that these are sure signs of trouble. The other is that he has to get out of here.

"Hey—hey, excuse me," he calls out to another mouse on the run, and this time he catches the attention of two. He crawls near the iron bars of his cell, pointing over to the other side of the wall outside where a ring of keys are hung on a hook. "Those keys over there. Can you try to get them? Please, you have to help me."

He can sense their hesitation, not that Jihoon blames them because if the castle is all in a rumble then he’d pretty much be running too. But his desperation must show a lot because the two mice are suddenly climbing over the only stool outside his cell in an attempt to get the keys. They even stand on top one another to reach higher, and Jihoon finds himself holding his breath as he watches their little hands trying to grasp at his only mode of freedom. When the jingle of metal rings out as the keys touch the floor in a fall, Jihoon smiles at the two of them and claps for their effort. 

“Thank you, thank—”

The dungeon shakes again, and instinct kicks in not a second later and the mice scurry away to hide and protect themselves.

“Wait!” Jihoon sinks, turning his gaze back to the keys. It’s on the floor now and only a few feet away from him, so he puts his entire arm out of his jail cell and reaches as far as he can. Even with his entire body pressed along the metal bars, his short limbs don’t even nearly reach halfway where they fell. He whines in defeat, right before he hears a familiar growl coming down the stairs of the dungeon.

“Ori! Over here!” He calls out, and the sabertooth immediately rushes to his outstretched arm. Jihoon rubs at her fur, feeling a bit of comfort instantly entering his system at her presence alone—he had no idea how much he missed her.

“What’s going on? What’s happening up there?” He asks her, but Jihoon can feel that the overgrown cat is just as clueless save for the instinct that there’s something wrong. He points to the floor then, over to where the two mice earlier left their handiwork. “Ori, get me the keys.”

It isn’t long before he’s out of his cell and running up the stairs out of the dungeon two steps at a time. His whole body still feels a little stiff from disuse but he pushes on, right behind Ori’s tail. Out of the confines of the underground for the first time in eight days and into the hallways of the castle, the first thing Jihoon takes note of is how dim his surroundings are. The lanterns that usually line the corridors aren’t lit, and the wide windows only show a darkening sky in the world outside in a promise of an oncoming rain. Jihoon can definitely feel it stronger now; there’s a buzz in the air, a faint chill that feels familiar yet foreign that’s tickling unpleasantly over the surface of his skin.

“Come on, Ori,” He tells his companion, mostly to give himself a boost of courage to start walking down the hall. The dungeons are on the far end of the west wing of the castle, but as he and Ori slowly make their way to the center of the palace the air grows thicker by the inch. There’s a terrible feeling in his gut, one that proves itself true when they turn a corner and see the first spattering of blood dirtying the hallway. 

Jihoon stops cold—there’s a body at the end of the corridor lying on the ground unmoving. 

“Ori? Please tell me this wasn’t your doing.” He pats a nervous hand on the sabertooth’s head, and he can feel by her purr that she’s just as spooked about this as he is. They walk closer, careful and quiet towards the end of the hall where the body is. Even when they’re only a few feet away, he doesn’t need to think twice or even check to know that the person is no longer alive.

Jihoon is no stranger to death. He’s seen his fair share of dead animals in the forest before and he’s even buried some of them all by himself ever since he’s been allowed to stumble outside the kingdom walls. But he’s never seen a dead human before, and looking at this palace guard now whose name he doesn’t even know is sending a cold shiver all the way to the base of his spine.

“What happened?” He whispers to himself, turning around to face the next hallway only to find more blood and two more bodies laying on the floor. Whatever the mice were warning him about earlier must definitely be happening at the center of the castle, and as much as his instincts are telling him to turn the other way and make a run for it, his concern and curiosity win over and his legs move forward.

He’s walking briskly now, eyeing each and every body he sees along the way and guiltily sighing in relief whenever it’s someone he doesn’t know. His and Ori’s steps gradually pick up their pace, nerves heightening as they get closer and closer to their destination. He’s almost running by the time he turns at another corner and bumps face first into the hard chest of another person.

“Jihoon?” 

The initial shock of getting caught by the one who brought him to the dungeon in the first place doesn’t even compare to the surprise he feels when he sees Jaehwan’s appearance. His usual neat hair is now a tousled mop of black with strands of his bangs sticking on his sweat-lined forehead. There’s a bleeding cut on his cheek, and even more blood all over the front of his clothes that thankfully doesn’t look to be his own.

“J-Jaehwan, I—”

“Who let you out? I was just about to go get you,” Jaehwan says, his tone frantic and confused. He shakes his head then, placing a steady grip on his wrist not unlike how he did the last time he saw him at the dining hall. “Nevermind, it doesn’t matter. We don’t have much time.”

“W-what’s going on?” Jihoon looks at how his hands are also bloodied, the trail of his vision climbing up to see that there’s a huge gash on his arm bleeding itself out. “You’re hurt. Jaehwan—”

“Nevermind that. Listen to me carefully, Jihoon.” He gets pulled a little closer, and from their distance Jihoon can see how wet his cheeks are and how red the white’s of his eyes have become. He tries not to let panic take him as he listens to the knight speak. “Take Ori and head to the kitchen. Then whoever else is in there, tell them to follow you and head to the cellar. Behind the third wine shelf is a doorway to a tunnel that should lead you far south out of the castle. Just follow the path and you should be safe. Do you understand?”

The panic in Jaehwan’s voice is alarming and difficult to overcome, so Jihoon just frowns in confusion. “Safe from what?” He asks, trying to be calm. “What’s happening?”

There’s a second of hesitation that looks like Jaehwan is considering whether the time to answer him is worth the time he’s losing in forcing him to go. Eventually he relents, sighing to the ground.

“Seongwu...whatever he is—he’s attacking the castle. He killed the king, Jihoon. He framed you and... _ fuck.” _

There are tears rolling down the knight’s face, sliding down his cheek and mixing with the blood smeared on him. He shakes his head, frowning when he looks back up at him. “I’m sorry, Jihoon. But we don’t have time to talk, you have to go. Go back to your village and stay with your father. If things don’t look like it’s getting better, head out of Maroowen and—”

“Where’s Daniel?”

Just as Jihoon speaks out the question, the castle quakes again in a strong, foot-tripping rumble. Up here above the dungeons it’s a whole lot stronger that even the chandeliers above them sway in the tremor. Jaehwan looks up, cursing again before tightening his grip on his wrist.

“Nevermind us, Jihoon. We’ll take care of this. Just think about yourself and stay safe.”

Jaehwan’s statement is answer enough to him, and he knows that wherever the tremors are coming from is where Daniel probably is. A spike of worry pulsates in his chest then, thinking that if Jaehwan already looks like this, what more could the prince’s state be in?

“Okay,” he says, nodding until he can feel the knight's grip loosening. “Third wine shelf in the cellar under the kitchen. I got it.”

Jaehwan nods at him then, finally letting go. And the moment he does, Jihoon puts both hands on his shoulders and switches places with him, putting him beside Ori who snaps her jaw on his tunic sleeve.

“What are you—!”

“You heard that, right Ori?” Jihoon nods at the sabertooth, their eyes communicating the message. “Take Jaehwan to the cellar and keep everyone safe. Find Jisung if you can and get him to treat his wounds. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Jihoon!” He tries to break away, but Ori’s hold on him is a lot stronger than he is right now. “What are you doing?!”

Jihoon backs away slowly, nodding to them. “Go Ori. Don’t let him out of your sight.” He turns and heads forward, running at full speed and ignoring Jaehwan’s screams for him to stop as he heads in the direction of trouble.

He can feel the vibrations on the walls and floor stronger now, and he guesses that wherever this is all happening must be inside one of the central ballrooms. He grabs a sword from one of the fallen guards along the way and forces his hand to get used to the feel of it as he sprints the corridors. It’s a lot lighter than the ones he’s used to in sparring, a whole lot sharper that’s so easily felt when he slices through the air as he moves the blade around.

There aren’t any more guards or bodies once he reaches the level of the ballroom, but the surprise that greets him when he turns and enters the archway where two double doors ought to be doesn’t compare to any of the shock he’s felt since leaving his cell.

A huge beast that stands at a height of about ten grown men is rampaging inside the ballroom, its horns almost reaching half of the ceiling’s height. A dragon in body and form, with talons for hands and a set of wings on its back. The only anomaly is that where scales should cover the expanse of its body is instead replaced by a white, leather-like skin that’s smooth and taut over it’s bony frame. Jihoon’s only read about dragons in some of the library books, but seeing one in the flesh is almost enough to stun him completely.

He only snaps out of it when he sees what—or rather,  _ who _ —the huge beast is up against. There in front of it’s enormity wearing a black tunic covered in blood is Daniel, fighting against strikes of talons with a sword that looks like a toothpick compared to his enemy’s size.

Jihoon immediately runs inside to hide behind one of the many pillar columns that decorate the ballroom. He only has a few weeks of experience in fighting with a sword and basically no training whatsoever in fighting a dragon. He swallows down his panic and fear, thinking of a way to go about the situation in the best way possible—which is proving to be a rather difficult task when all he can hear are the putrid roars of the monster and Daniel’s failing grunts of effort. 

Jihoon tries to peek from where he’s hidden to survey the situation better, and immediately his eyes catch the large hanging ornaments that adorn this very room; the brass chandeliers overhead, five in total that’s simply hanging by the ropes. He traces the source with his eyes and marks each of them in his head before sneaking off to the next pillar unnoticed.

He’s about three columns away from the first rope tying one of the chandeliers in place when he hears the unmistakable clang of a sword falling on the floor. He looks back out to the center of the room to see Daniel thrown on his back, vulnerable and open for the dragon’s killing strike.

“HEY!”

Two pairs of eyes are immediately on him—Daniel’s shocked and confused ones and the dragon’s deadly glare. Jihoon doesn’t wait for either of them to process his presence when he swings his sword backward in a wide arc, cutting the rope beside him and sending one of the chandeliers to land hard on top of the beast in a rowdy clang.

It hurls out a wail as it struggles, but Jihoon is already sprinting and grabbing Daniel’s clothes by the collar and helping him get back behind one of the columns on the other side of the room. Jihoon’s hands are shaking from where he’s holding on to him, but the shock on Daniel’s face must be a greater escalation of what he’s currently feeling.

“Jihoon? What are you—”

A rumbling crash and a slight shower of dust and debris explode to their left where a dragon’s claw has broken one of the pillars. It’s looking for them, and Jihoon eyes the next nearest rope to him before harriedly whispering to the prince. 

“Can you run?”

“Wha—”

“I’ll distract him. Run to the door when I say so.”

“Jihoon—”

“GO!” He yells out this time, running at full speed over to the next rope hook on the wall. The dragon senses him and swings a spiked tail but the columns block the hit. He makes it in time, swinging his sword and cutting the cord with a snap to let the next chandelier fall.

But the dragon swipes the falling labra out of the way with its claws in anticipation and begins a mad dash towards him. Jihoon runs to the side as fast as his legs will carry him, barely missing one strike and a second. Just when he thinks he can manage to make it to the next rope he trips over a stone on the floor, and he turns on his back just in time to see a sharp claw coming down to impale him.

A roar of pain with a mix of a shriek comes out of the dragon’s jaws as it rears back and flails wildly to the side. Jihoon gets up to see that Daniel had picked up his sword again to stab the beast from behind, aiming for another strike as he tries to pull his weapon out out of its hind.

“Daniel! Behind you!”

The prince hears his warning too late and a tail hits him square on the back, sending him rolling to the side in a heap. Jihoon rushes over to him, sliding a full skid on the once polished floor when one of the dragon’s claws try to slash at him. He makes it to the prince just as he’s coming to, but he pulls him up his feet a second too late when he sees the tail swinging right at them again.

He braces for impact, but Daniel yanks his sword out of his hand and moves to stand in front of him. Jihoon watches as he makes a perfectly timed upward swing, cutting the reptilian tail clean from where it was supposed to hit them. 

A deafening wail and a rampage that shakes the floor so hard that they almost stumble in their feet while they make a run for it. They’re almost to the door when Daniel suddenly shoves his entire body to knock them both to the side and behind a pillar just as a blazing hot burst of flame blows out and incinerates everything in the direction of the doorway. 

The floor vibrates again in a signal of what’s approaching them, and Daniel takes Jihoon’s lead by madly dashing to the next rope in their periphery. But the dragon wasn’t coming for them—it was coming for the same rope too that by the time Daniel reaches and just readies to swing and cut, the beast stands directly in front of him with its teeth bared. 

“Daniel!!”

The dragon knocks him to the center of the room and he drops his sword again. He tries to get up but just in time for the clawed hand to wrap around his body and hold him captive like a bird would its prey. The dragon then heads for the balcony outside the ballroom, breaking the glass-paned windows and raising it’s hostage in a stance to throw. It’s going to drop Daniel out the landing.

Jihoon doesn’t waste time and rushes to pick up the dropped sword, rushing at full speed and forcefully driving the blade in a deep slash rather than a stab. He uses the motion of his swing to go at it again and again, swinging and spinning in a perfect barrage until the dragon stumbles and wails—letting go of Daniel and tripping over itself before falling off the balcony with its own weight. 

"I got you!" He grabs Daniel's hand from where he's hanging from the ledge now, dropping his sword in favor of using both arms to pull him up.

He's about halfway through the climb when Jihoon sees movement coming from below them; a flash of white that’s steadily rising and coming straight for their direction until in the next second, he can't feel the ground on his feet anymore and he's now the one dangling off and holding onto Daniel's arm.

The dragon's got Daniel on its claws again and they're being taken into a ride over the castle in its flight. Jihoon can see the smashed in ballroom from up here, all the way to the aviary where the ravens are flying in a frenzy. He can feel the first stray droplets of rain hitting his face and body in a cold onslaught as they fly along the tops of the castle; what would be an exhilarating experience if he wasn’t holding on for his life.

"Jihoon! Hold on!” Daniel calls out, and he feels for the first time his slipping hold.

He makes to adjust his grip amidst the growing slickness from the rain, but it's for naught when the dragon suddenly swerves to the left to head and he loses his hold on Daniel's hand.

"NO!!"

He doesn't scream or shout like Daniel’s echoing voice when he feels nothing but rushing air around him—the sensation cut short when he lands hard on his back on a slanted roofing, knocking all the breath he has right out of him as he rolls and slides down in the direction of the slope. He only barely manages to get his bearings when his momentum throws him over to the side, his hands grasping wildly at the ledge as his whole body hangs over the precipice.

Jihoon chances a glance down to look at what his fall would entail only to see nothing but the grounds that’s at least five stories below. He can feel the slow and steady trickle of rain that’s starting to patter from above, something that he knows will do no good for his already weakening grip. 

He tries to haul himself upward but with no footholds or any sort of leverage, the effort falls short to nothing. His arms are straining, and he knows it’ll only be a matter of time before he loses his strength and he falls to his death. The thought of how it’s going to end for him overcome everything else, his fingers slipping and weakening under the darkness of rain clouds with the noise of cawing ravens surrounding him.

His mind sharply snaps at the realization; he had been so focused on trying to hold on that he had failed to notice the couple of dozen black-feathered birds now surrounding him. The flaps of their wings flutter in a deafening barrage all around him as they fly around in circles, cawing in unison to get his attention.

“M-Maximus!”

He sees a larger raven surge forward, and suddenly something latches itself on the fabric of his clothes and starts pulling upwards. He feels another and two more on his tunic, and even on the fabric of his pant legs until he can feel the combined strength of the birds helping him pull his weight up. He holds on harder to the ledge, using every ounce of strength he has to pull himself upward until he finally gets back up to the roof safely.

“Thank you,” he whispers in relief, completely out of breath and worn as he pats the raven’s feathers. He leans back on the slope to recover a little, and his vantage of the sky gives him a clear view of the blast of flame that suddenly blows out from above the upper turrets of the castle to remind him of what's still happening.

“Maximus, I have to go there,” he tells the large bird who looks up to where he’s pointing before acknowledging him with a bow of its head. Maximus gets on and clutches at his right shoulder then, joined by another to his left. The rest of the ravens flock and fly in the direction, leading Jihoon in his climb.

With two large birds helping carry his weight, it proves to be much easier to scale the walls and ledges of the castle tops that it basically takes him no time at all to reach where the dragon has taken Daniel. The roofing here is slanted and dangerous, and he can see the prince trying to run and avoid as many of the beast’s slashes volleying him. 

“We have to help!”

Maximus leaves his side, and Jihoon makes a mad dash forward to join the fight. Daniel barely misses another strike but the ravens are already congregating overhead, ready to strike.

Jihoon’s only a few feet away when Daniel finally sees him—his expression filling with so much surprise and relief the he only narrowly avoids another claw thrown at him. A loud caw rings behind Jihoon and he sees one of the ravens carrying the sword he had dropped at the ballroom earlier for him to take. He nods his thanks, grabs the hilt, makes a full swing to slash at the underbelly of the dragon when he passes it in a sprint.

It roars in pain and Jihoon stands beside Daniel, parrying a weak claw that comes for them. The dragon starts rearing its head back in what appears to be a preparation to breathe out fire, but the attack of about fifty black-feathered birds interrupt it in a flurry. The white, scaleless skin starts to rip and bleed over a hundred sharp talons tearing it down, and Jihoon can see Maximus make a successful dive that blinds one eye of the raging monster. He joins on the attack then, lunging forward to slash and strike at its arms.

“Jihoon the heart!! Go for his heart!!” He hears Daniel yelling at him, and he switches his mode of attack toward the center of its chest. 

Just before Jihoon can push the sword in for a deep stab, the dragon flails around from the pain inflicted by the ravens and knocks him to the side only barely out of the roof. Wide, bony wings open, flapping slowly that makes what the beast is going to try to do all the more apparent. Jihoon gets up not a second later and starts climbing up the dragon’s back, holding on to the few spines lining the expanse of its body.

“Jihoon, don’t!” 

Daniel’s voice comes out from behind him, and he sees that the prince has followed in his trail and is climbing up the dragon’s back too. The wings are starting to flap harder, and soon they’re slowly rising up into the air and away from the relative security of the castle roofs. The ravens are still not letting up in their swipes and attacks that the dragon thrashes wildly as it rises higher into the air. Jihoon holds on tight but at the cost of dropping his sword again. They’re rising higher now just as the rain starts to pour.

“Jihoon!!” Daniel calls his attention again, and he follows to where the prince is pointing at. There on the back side of the dragon, just above of what looks to be its thigh, is the sword he had used to stab it earlier in their fight inside the ballroom. Daniel fights his way to it, climbing up the dragon’s body using the spikes to hold. When he reaches the sword, he grabs on to the hilt and twists it out, the blade coming free but at the cost of another round of thrashing from the beast.

Daniel only barely manages to hold on this time, with only one arm keeping him in place. Jihoon makes to crawl down a little lower to help him but the dragon’s movements will only throw him out more.

“Let go of the sword Daniel!”

“If I let go we won’t be able to fight it!”

“Then throw it to me! Throw it high!”

“What?!”

“Just trust me!”

The best thrashes again, and any hesitation Daniel has flies out of his system when he hauls the sword upward high into the air, letting him grab onto the dragon better with both hands. 

“Maximus!” Jihoon calls out amidst the endless screeches and caws and sure enough, the largest of the ravens swoop in to catch the sword in midair. The bird flies in his direction and drops the sword in his outstretched hand, and without wasting another second more, Jihoon uses the momentum and all the strength he has in his body to drive the sword deep over the center of dragon’s back. 

A loud roar and a desperate cry rings and drowns out any other sound across the sky. Jihoon drives the blade in deeper, as far as the hilt of the sword will allow him. The shift in the dragon’s movement is different now, and the gradual slowing of its flapping wings indicate that he’s done it. Without the break of air, the momentum suddenly changes and Jihoon finds himself holding on even tighter on the spines of the dragon as it starts free-falling from the sky. They’re twisting and rotating, and the ground is coming at them at an alarming rate with nothing to break the fall. Jihoon feels a hand on his wrist and sees Daniel coming to him frantically.

“We need to stay on top of the body! Climb! Climb!”

Jihon pushes up, fighting the rush of air and gravity and heading to an angle where they wouldn’t get crushed. He can see the ravens trying their best to swoop in and save them but they’re falling too fast, too hard.

“Jihoon!!”

He hears Daniel yell before he’s suddenly pulled over and pressed against his body, a hair of a second right before a loud crash and force so strong shakes his entire body to unconsciousness.

  
  
  
  
  


Jihoon comes to when the slow prattle of raindrops start hitting his face, his eyes slowly opening and blinking out white spots from his vision. There’s a sore, throbbing pain in the center of his back and a lingering headache but other than that, all his limbs still feel intact and functional. What greets him when his eyes finally focus jolts him back to to where he is though, when he realizes that it wasn’t raindrops he had been feeling just now—it’s Daniel’s blood.

“D-Daniel!”

He’s situated right above him, encasing him like a cocoon to shield him from the spikes of the dragon’s spine. There’s one in particular protruding through his right shoulder, piercing all the way from his back.

“Are...are you okay?” Daniel asks him, right before he starts coughing. His lips stained with blood.

“Don’t move. I’ll—” He doesn’t know what he should even do. He’s trapped— _ th _ ey _ ’re _ trapped—and he doesn’t know if it’s even safe to push the body of the dragon crushing them with Daniel impaled like this. He feels tears coming up to flood his eyes over the look Daniel is giving him, feeling helpless.

“I’m...glad you’re okay.” 

“Stop talking,” Jihoon says, frantic. “Save your energy. I’ll get us out of here.” He moves a little to get a gist of how much space he has, looking around his immediate area to see what he can do. Judging from the position they’re in, it looks like one of the wings of the dragon broke their fall but rolled over with its back on top of them, which only makes Jihoon panic all that much more at the thought of just how many of its spikes have hit Daniel when he came to shield him.

“I t-think I can crawl out that way. I’m going to move a little then I’m going to pull you out, okay?” He tells him, his tears now streaming over his face. Daniel just nods, his lips hidden between his teeth in pain.

Jihoon starts to move without a second to waste, shimmying his body upward and to the side until he’s free from Daniel’s hold. With much more space to move and without worrying about driving him in any more pain, he uses his legs to push up on one side of the dragon’s body, managing to lift the weight a little. Except the movement causes Daniel to scream out, the spines on him not budging.

“Daniel—Daniel listen to me.” He calls out frantically, containing his panic to take control of the situation. “I know it hurts, but you have to push yourself out, okay? I’m going to try to lift the body higher and when I do, lean forward so the spike on your shoulder slides out. Can you do that?”

Jihoon panics a little when Daniel doesn’t answer him right away in fear that he may have passed out, but eventually he gets a sure nod. He takes a deep breath with him, audibly counts to three before pushing up again with his legs. Daniel screams out, hissing as he leans his body forward and out of his entrapment. Jihoon stretches his legs higher, pushing and pushing until even his butt is raised off from the ground. In one final yell of discomfort, Daniel finally lodges himself out of the spikes and falls down to the ground in a bloody heap, breathing hard and ragged.

“Daniel—you have to crawl out. Just get out of the way before I let this go.”

An arm twitches, then a leg—and with an extreme grunt of effort, Daniel starts pulling himself out from under the dragon’s body and out into the open safety. Once Jihoon’s sure he’s out, he cuts the effort he’s pushing and lets his legs drop, crawling out soon after. 

“Hey. Hey, look at me. Daniel—” He cradles the prince on his lap, careful not to move him too much. He starts ripping his entire sleeve off, crumpling the fabric to push down on Daniel’s wound—the cloth turning red in seconds.

“Daniel, can you apply pressure on this? I’m going to run and find some help. Just hold on and—”

A steady hand on his wrist cuts him off and he soon finds himself staring into brown eyes and a small smile. Daniel holds him tighter, shaking his head.

“Don’t...go.

“You’re hurt badly. You need help and I can’t—”

“It...it doesn’t matter anyway. I-I can’t feel my other arm, Jihoon.”

The corners of his mouth pull down and a fresh wave of tears fall from his eyes again, the hand applying pressure on the wound shaking. “Don’t—don’t say that. You’re okay, you hear me? Jisung can help you. Let me find him and—”

“Stay,” Daniel says, his voice coming out as soft and weak as his grip on his wrist. “Please...just stay.”

“Daniel…”

The hand goes up to cup his face then, a thumb swiping over his cheeks to brush his tears away. “How is it fair...that you still manage to look so beautiful even when you cry?” Daniel says, smiling a little wider. Jihoon holds on to the hand on him then, a light chuckle on his lips. “I’m sorry, Jihoon...for everything. I should’ve...I shouldn’t have doubted you and—”

“It’s okay.” He nods against his hand, sniffing his tears back. “It’s okay, Daniel. I understand.”

But Daniel only shakes his head, sadness coloring his features. “I’m sorry...I’m so sorry. Because of me, I put everyone’s lives at risk—”

“Hey.” He gives his hand a squeeze, smiling in reassurance. “Seongwu tricked you. That isn’t your fault. Don’t...just don’t think about that now, okay?”

Daniel chuckles then, the act causing him to cough a little. A bead of blood slides down his chin. “You’ve always been too kind.”

“And you’ve always been too stubborn,” he says with a light chuckle, wiping the blood away. “Daniel, please…”

“Remember that night...back in my chambers?” Daniel starts to say, ignoring his plea and sinking into his touch. “When you were taking my measurements...when you told me you want to just forget about everything between us.”

Jihoon’s chest stings and grows in weight, the memory still fresh in his mind. He wants to forget but closes his eyes and nods anyway.

“Can we take it back?” Daniel asks, weak and just slightly desperate. “I don’t...I don’t want us to forget.”

Jihoon shakes his head with vigor, squeezing Daniel’s hand tighter. “I won’t,” he says, his tears starting to choke him up. “I won’t...and you won’t either. Please, Daniel...let me get help for you. Just—”

“I love you.” 

It takes away every single thought in his head and all the words from his open mouth. Daniel smiles at him, laughing and coughing again as he takes in his expression.

“You’ve made me...the happiest man in the past few months. You made me forget about my curse—made me want to live and be a better person.” Daniel squeezes his hand back, the gesture coming out frail and lethargic. “I love you, Jihoon. I...I’ve always wanted to tell you that. And I really should have. I’m sorry...if I’m a little too late.”

His tears are falling faster than ever now, dripping down his chin and falling on Daniel’s wounds, his face. He wants to say something, but everything in his throat is choked up by a huge lump that words can’t get past through. So he closes his eyes and holds on to him, hoping that it’s enough for his feelings to be felt.

When he opens his eyes again, he finds Daniel’s closed and the warmth he felt just now in his chest immediately transforms to panic. He puts a finger near his airways and whimpers when he doesn’t feel anything—his hands shaking from fear.

“Daniel—Daniel stay with me. Daniel!”

His voice comes out broken and stuttering in a choke, and his tears don’t stop falling. He’s doing his best not to hyperventilate, and he starts to rip out his other sleeve to put more pressure on the prince’s still bleeding wounds.

“Help!! Somebody!!”

His hands are soiled and his chest and eyes hurt from exhaustion. Adrenaline is starting to wane off his body and he can start to feel the soreness of his muscles. He doesn’t know what to do anymore and he’s running out of ideas. 

“Daniel, please. Wake up—please...don’t leave me.”

He hears a loud caw coming from behind them, and Jihoon whips his head to the sight of a few ravens flying their way. It’s Maximus, and right behind their flock is Jaehwan and Ori and a few palace guards rushing to get to them.

“Get a stretcher, and tell Jisung to prepare at the infirmary. The rest of you stay here in keep an eye on that dragon. I don’t want any surprises.”

Jihoon feels Jaehwan’s hand go to his back in comfort as he barks his commands to his party. There’s a small sprout of relief, but all he can focus on right now is Daniel.

And after they’re all finally inside and waiting at the infirmary, he clutches on to Jaehwan’s arm like a lifeline, praying to all the Gods for a miracle to happen as he himself passes out from exhaustion.


	12. A Peaceful Surrender

The seats around the small table are already filled by the time he enters the meeting room, all the chairs occupied save for the one at the head. Everyone is silent, the only sounds resonating are from those of the wooden legs of the chairs that scrape the floor when they all stand and bow to him in greeting. They all take their seats together, and the silence ensues.

Jisung sits to his left, where he’s busy writing down notes on his parchment; ever busy in the midst of everything. Jaehwan is on his right, staring blankly on the opposite wall his seat faces. Sungwoon takes the seat beside him, who’s also scribbling on his parchment although not as avid as Jisung is being—and lastly Daehwi who sits right across the Chamberlain, with his arms crossed over his chest and his face being the only one in the room that actually has a non-stoic expression on it.

He supposes he’s made them wait long enough, so he clears his throat to start. In a second, all eyes immediately go to him.

“Thank you all for being here. I understand how busy everyone is so I’ll try not to take much of your time.” Daniel nods once, meeting everybody’s gaze in turn. “There’s really no way of going around with this so I’ll just cut straight to the point. I’m abdicating from the throne and I’d like to renounce my title as king.”

Everyone more or less makes a barely contained look of surprise when his words float in the air, all except for Jaehwan who continues to stare into the opposite wall like he’s expected to hear just that. Sungwoon opens his mouth but comes up short, exchanging glances with the others. In the end, it’s Jisung who breaks the silence.

“Daniel...why?” 

He sighs then, and he has to stop his hand from instinctively going to his chest—he’s been told not to touch the bandages over his wounds until they fully heal.

“We only have less than a month before my twenty-second birthday, and you all know what happens by then,” he says, following through his motion of being frank. “We’re obviously not going to find a monarch for me to wed in three week’s time, and to be honest...I don’t really want to look for anyone anymore. So instead of wasting our resources on fancy dinners and hosting foreign guests, I propose that we might as well just use this time to prepare for a new king to take over for me...and I was hoping you could be that person, Jaehwan.”

_ Now  _ he gets a reaction from his best friend. The young knight sharply turns his head to him, eyes blown wide out of proportion in disbelief and shock. “What?” He says, his mouth falling agape.

“You’ve been by my side my entire life. You grew up with me, basically sat in all the same lessons and proceedings as I did. If anyone here could take in the role of a king, that’s you.”

There comes no word of protest or complaint from the rest of the table. It’s a good sign, but Jaehwan shakes his head as expected. “I’m not of royal blood.”

“So?” Daniel chuckles, lifting his shoulders in a shrug; the right one stings a little. “I’m a king without an heir. Naturally, it falls under my responsibility to choose someone suitable to take over. Regardless of their birthright.”

Jaehwan lets out a disbelieving breath, continuing to shake his head before he turns to the person across from him for help. “Jisung. He can’t do this, can he?”

A heavy sigh and finger to rub on his nose bridge; Jisung puts his quill down when he answers. “I’m afraid he can. And I apologize but...Daniel is right. If there’s anyone who’s even remotely knowledgeable and ready to sit on that throne, it’s you Jaehwan.”

“You can’t all be serious.” Jaehwan scoffs, looking at each of them—dismayed when none of them speak out against him. “I decline then. I have no intention of being king.”

Daniel nods, already having expected his answer. “I’m not forcing the role on you now, Jaen. I’ll still be here to carry out the responsibilities before my birthday comes. I understand that you will need time to think about it and—”

“What’s there to think about? I already said no—”

“Jaehwan,” Daniel says sternly, yet comforting all the while. “Please. I know I’ve asked a lot from you in the past, and I know this is a huge thing to ask of you now. But please...just think about it.”

His best friend just glares at him, unblinking and intense. It’s a while before he lets out a heavy breath, sitting upright in his chair again and directing his angered gaze down at their table. Daniel knows that it’s as good as he’s going to get for now.

“What about the curse?” Sungwoon speaks up for the first time, his worried expression triggering everyone else’s. “If we’re not going to look for someone to marry you, are you really just going to...”

He doesn’t even finish the sentence before he bites his lips in hesitation. But Daniel understands, hoping fervently that they would too.

“When our fathers told us about the condition I have on the day my scar came out, we’ve all lived to carry the burden of trying to find a person to fix it,” Daniel says, drawing his gaze to everyone at the table, one by one. “And I appreciate all the effort, I really do. But there comes a time when we must admit surrender...and this was not an easy decision to make for myself but, that’s what I’m choosing now.”

He nods once, more to himself than for the others. His eyes go down this time too, his gaze tracing the ornate details painted on the polished surface of their table with his family’s crest.

“I know the sacrifices my parents made for my sake. I know of their wishes for me to live a good life,” he says, solemnly, a burden on its own. “I may not live past twenty-two, but I at least would like to honor those wishes now. So until the day comes, I just want to be able to live freely, to live the way  _ I _ want without thinking of the repercussions.”

He’s proud of himself that he’s managed to say all that without choking up or feeling the need to cry. He supposes it helps that he wasn’t looking at anyone in particular, because as he looks up now he doesn’t think he could’ve been as strong with the way everyone is staring at him now. Even Jaehwan has broken his gaze on the wall to face him, and he thinks he sees Jisung and Daehwi shedding a few tears.

“I’m sorry if I let you all down...but I hope you can respect my wishes,” he says in finality, and he doesn’t think anything can compare to the relief he feels when he sees all his friends collectively nod at him. Jaehwan though—well, he really shouldn’t be surprised when he doesn’t.

A knock on the door interrupts their little moment, prompting them to fix their postures and personas back to their professional state. When Daniel calls for the visitor to enter, the guard bows at them from the door before addressing him.

“Your highness, the palace gates have just opened and the guards on the post have informed me that Master Jihoon has just entered through. He should be arriving at the foyer in a few minutes.”

Daniel smiles, biting down his lip to not let it spread into a wide grin. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get over how everyone has labeled Jihoon as an honorary ‘master’ now around the castle—much to his friend’s dismay.

“Excellent, please show them in. I’ll be down shortly.”

The guard bows and makes his exit, and not a second later does Daniel make a stand to do the same; his stomach already fluttering over the prospect of meeting Jihoon. “I guess we can call this meeting to a close. Oh, and Sungwoon—is everything going well for tonight?”

The Chamberlain sniffs back his lingering tears before flashing him his winning smile, nodding is assent. “Don’t you worry. I’ll make sure everything is perfect.”

“Wonderful. Same goes for you too, Daehwi.” He points to the Master of Wardrobe, chuckling when he only waves a dismissive hand at him. 

Daniel starts to get going then, not even the least bit ashamed of how there’s a skip in his step and a lightness in his chest as he walks down the halls. He’d been dreading in anticipation for this day for a while, and not that he’s done the deed and let the words out of his system, he feels nothing but relief and fulfillment for himself.

He’s only just about turned the corner of the hallway when he suddenly stops in his tracks, not even thinking twice with doubt as he waits for his best friend to catch up with him.

“I suppose you still have a few things to say to me,” Daniel says a few seconds later before he turns around. When he does, he’s only mildly surprised to see tears openly falling from Jaehwan’s eyes, marking his own not too far behind.

“My father died two weeks ago,” Jaehwan says with a low, shaky voice before taking one step closer to him. “And now you’re telling me that my best friend—the only family I have left—is going to die on me too?” The knight shakes his head, the shape of his lips quivering in a distorted frown. “How is that any fair, huh Niel? Tell me.”

Instead of answering though, Daniel swallows the forming lump in his throat and bridges their gap as he walks forward, wrapping both his arms around Jaehwan. He doesn’t care if his right shoulder stings at the movement, or that it brings a fresh throb of pain all the way to his head when he hugs the knight tighter. He lets his own tears fall now, hiding them from Jaehwan’s sight.

“I’m sorry, Jaen. I’m really sorry.”

The knight just hugs him tighter, and Daniel can feel his chest against his own racking in a dry sob. They don’t say much of anything because really, there isn’t anything left to say at this point. Things happen beyond their control, and it’s been a particularly hard time for both of them especially. And as much as they don’t want it, the only thing they can really do is to just hug, cry, and accept the pain that’s thrown at them.

“I’m not saying yes yet,” Jaehwan says with a sniff when he pulls back, the back of his sleeve going up to wipe his tears. “About being the king.”

Daniel chuckles at him, flashing a grin as he wipes his own tears too. “I know.”

They just look into each other’s eyes for a while, acknowledging their moment together. It’s in that moment, as it is with a lot of other moments, that Daniel is thankful to have such a wonderful friend. 

“Go,” Jaehwan says, gesturing to the hall. “The love of your life is waiting.”

Daniel laughs again, and he pats the knight’s shoulder and gives him a nod before turning around and walking the other way with a huge grin on his face.

He’s a little bit annoyed that he has to take the longer route to reach the castle foyer due to the main hall still being under construction, but all his little peeves vanish the instant he reaches the top of the grand staircase and he sees a familiar bush of blonde hair standing below the foot of the stairs. He’s busy talking, and they still haven’t noticed him so Daniel uses that time to watch and admire from afar as Jihoon points and explains to all the decorations and details adorning the castle. He smiles, clearing his throat to catch their attention before taking the steps down to meet them.

“Your  _ majesty _ ,” Jihoon bows to greet him when he comes to stand in front of them, smiling wiley before gesturing beside him to his companion. “I believe you’ve already met my father.”

Daniel nods after bowing back, extending a hand to shake. “It’s my pleasure to see you again sir.”

“Ah, the pleasure is all mine, your majesty.” Jihoon’s father nods, shaking his hand in earnest. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Our home is your home,” Daniel says, flashing a warm smile. “Please, make yourself comfortable. I hope Jihoon hasn’t forgotten to mention that you’re more than welcome to stay here for as long as you’d like.”

Jihoon makes to roll his eyes, at which his father just laughs and puts an arm over his shoulder. “He hasn’t. Thank you so much for your generosity, your grace.”

“Please.” Daniel bows graciously. “Just Daniel is fine.”

He calls for one of the servants then, motioning to his belongings. “Our servant here will lead you to your quarters. Dinner should be ready in around half an hour, I believe. In the secondary dining hall.”

A look of amused confusion colors the tailor’s face then, right before Jihoon chuckles and pats his father’s arm. “I’ll come and get you when it’s time, Appa. Just settle in for now.”

“Okay,” his father says fondly, nodding to the two of them. “I’ll see you two later then.”

When they start walking up the stairs, Daniel can hear Jihoon’s father asking for the servant’s name and then proceeding to voice out questions about the castle. He smiles to himself—so that’s where Jihoon gets his curiosity from.

His thoughts are then interrupted when he feels a hand fold on top of his own, fingers interlacing together with his. He faces to the side then, using his other arm to pull Jihoon in for a hug and leave a kiss on top of his blonde head. “I missed you,” he whispers, to which Jihoon lightly scoffs at.

“I’ve only been away for three days.”

“So?” Daniel raises a brow, pulling him closer. “That’s one day too long.”

He goes to kiss him again, but this time he feels Jihoon stand on his toes so he could meet his lips in a light peck that makes his heart flutter. 

“I missed you too. How are you feeling?” Jihoon asks, a gentle hand coming to rest over the bandages on his right shoulder. 

“Better, now that you’re here.”

Jihoon nods, seemingly pleased with his answer. “Did you talk to Jaehwan and others yet?”

“Yes. Just a few minutes ago, actually. Before you arrived,” he says, sighing a little. “But I don’t want to talk about that now. Tell me about your trip.”

Jihoon laughs then, and Daniel for the life of him doesn’t know how he was able to live the last few days without hearing that sound. “Well, home was nice. The castle’s great and all but I did miss our house. I ate all the food I used to eat, helped my father in his workshop—oh, and my friend Woojin and I went to the forest again.”

“Ansel, right? And what was the other guy’s name?”

“Dorian.” Jihoon’s smile grows wider, the hold on his hand tightening fondly. “I told them all about you and stuff here from the castle. They were all very excited.”

“You should take me to see them some time,” Daniel says, returning the squeeze of his hand. “I’d love to meet your friends.”

Before Jihoon can answer though, they hear a growl coming in from the top of the staircase and they both turn to look at the same time to see a sabertooth tiger bounding down to them. Ori rears up on her hind legs and wraps Jihoon in a hug, purring and licking his face while he laughs and crouches down to her level.

“I missed you too Ori. Have you been good? Did you watch over Daniel while I was gone?”

Daniel looks at the two of them without even noticing the growing smile on his face. All the heaviness from earlier has all but left him now, and he breathes in to relish the moment he feels truly happy.

When the sun has fully set and the lanterns and candelabras around the castle are being lit, Daniel finds himself in one of the more modest dining halls and sitting beside Jihoon and across his father. He had specifically told Sungwoon not to overly decorate the room nor employ the help of servants to cater to their meal, and instructed Daehwi not to outfit them in anything grander than casual evening wear. So their food is just laid out in a communal fashion at the center of their table, and they help themselves and eat in privacy without all the flair of a typical royal banquet.

It’s nice this way, Daniel thinks, to be in the presence of the most important person in his life right now and his father; to have the air around them be so light and casual with small conversations about how wonderful the food in the castle is and curious questions about how things work around here.

Perhaps the most exciting, especially for him, is when Jihoon’s father casually injects tales and anecdotes of his travels around Esna in the past when he was about their age. Daniel has only ever heard stories like these from royals himself, and he’s got to admit that’s it’s a lot more fascinating to hear them from a free man.

“There’s a small village just between Maroowen and the Lais that serves  _ the _ most delicious apple strudel I have ever tasted,” Jihoon’s father says quite animatedly, much to their amusement. “I believe it’s their apple trees. They’re grown freely and I hear the villagers do not cultivate the fruit unless they fall freely to the ground themselves. It’s a very respectful practice in nature, I must say.”

“I ought to mention that to our groundskeeper then,” Daniel says with enthusiasm, nodding fervently on to his next story about the peaches on the northern village of Ygorva.

There comes a bit of a hiccup during the course of their meal, however, when Daniel ever so casually mentions the deeds Jihoon has done nearing two weeks ago when he had saved their kingdom from potential doom. The mention of the fight with the sorcerer-turned-dragon gets him a tense hand to the thigh from underneath the table, and a blown-out look of surprise from his father.

“You mean to tell me that my son—who has never even wielded a weapon in his entire life—was on the back of that flying beast, the size of which was large enough that I could see it from our house down south??”

“Ah, there’s no need for you to worry sir. I was there too. And I have to say that the sword lessons I’ve been giving Jihoon really paid off with the way he had fought that day—ow!”

He looks at Jihoon when he pinches him, only to see his face clearly saying that he hasn’t told his father  _ all _ the details yet. Suffice to say, his father had gotten to know his son a lot better that night than in the three days Jihoon had spent back home.

Overall though, dinner was as pleasant as a first dinner could ever get, leaving Daniel to look forward to the next they will surely have together. It’s just him and Jihoon again walking alone in the hallway now that his father had already left for his bedchambers, their hands entwined and swinging just ever so slightly as they stroll down the corridors.

“Sorry about earlier,” he says, but the statement isn’t weighted. Jihoon just chortles at him.

“It’s okay. I should’ve told you that I haven’t exactly told my father about everything yet.”

“You think he’s mad that I gave you sword lessons? The look he gave me when I said that felt like he was,” he says, sounding a little worried. But actually, he kind of is—he doesn’t want a bad impression on Jihoon’s father.

“Nah. He’s just surprised. I don’t think he minds so much about what I learned as compared to the fact that I legitimately learned. Although I think we’re going to have to tell him soon that you know about what I am though.” Jihoon turns his head to look at him, laughing at what must be the expression he has on his face. “Don’t worry. I’ll be the one to tell him.”

He breathes out a sigh of relief, one he didn’t even realize he was holding. “Okay.”

They make it to the doorway of his room at the next turn, and Jihoon stands to the side to face him when they finally stop walking. Daniel doesn’t let his hand go though, keeping him in place.

“You didn’t have to walk me, you know,” he says, his head tilting to gesture to his door. “You’re not my servant anymore.”

Jihoon just shrugs, a small smile turning up his lips. “Force of habit. And I like walking with you.”

They stay like that for a little while, standing no farther than a foot from one another with their thumbs playing on the surface of each other’s hands. Daniel stares ardently at Jihoon’s eyes all the while, thinking not for the first time how easy and satisfying it is to get lost in the depths of his dark brown orbs; finding himself feeling hopeful that Jihoon sees something in him in the same way he does.

Jihoon’s the first to take a step forward, and Daniel doesn’t wait for a second more and leans down a little so he doesn’t have to stand on his toes when they crash their lips together. They start out slow and just shy of each other, hesitating in mere touch and contact. When Daniel lets go of Jihoon’s hand in favor of cupping the undersides of his jaw, he opens his mouth simultaneously and dives deeper into Jihoon’s.

His heart is drumming in his ears, and he feels hot on the parts of his skin that Jihoon lands his hands on against his tunics. It’s in moments like these that he realizes with startling clarity that—of all the people he’s kissed in the past or even shared intimate touches with before, no one and nothing has ever compared to what Jihoon is making him feel now and in all the other times they’ve done this. He’s intoxicated and soothed at the same time, calm and rabid, as quenched and satisfied as he is thirsty for more. 

As always, it’s Jihoon who pulls back first, leaving Daniel blindly chasing for more lips when he does. They both chuckle, giddy in tune as if they’re two young school kids doing this behind a tree in the schoolyard. 

“I should—umm...get back to my room now,” Jihoon says, clearing his throat and biting his already swollen lips and looking at the ground in shyness. He makes to take a step back, but Daniel’s hands fly to his wrist.

“Wait.” He doesn’t know where he’s going with this, but he’s been away from Jihoon for three whole days and he doesn’t want to let him go just yet. “Please—please stay.”

“Daniel...”

“You don’t have to go back to your room. You can sleep with me,” he says, and immediately regretting his words the next second when he hears what it sounds like out of his head. “I-I mean—”

But Jihoon’s small laugh takes the awkwardness and fumble away, and his heart swells even larger when he steps closer to him again.

“Okay.” He nods, and if the lights weren’t so dim in the hallway, Daniel could probably make out the growing redness climbing up Jihoon’s neck. 

He opens the door to his room then, holding on to his hand as he leads him inside. It’s not the first time Jihoon enters his room, definitely so, but Daniel still feels the same giddiness and building excitement at the base of his stomach that as if it was.

  
  
  
  
  


It takes them much longer to get out of bed the next morning. They could probably say that it’s because cuddling under the sheets felt too good an opportunity to pass up, but really it’s mostly due to the fact that Daniel had initiated a tickle fight he could not resist in the state of their bare bodies that had excited Jihoon too much to the point that some of his wounds split open and they had to do an emergency bandage change right then and there. 

It’s all in good laughter though, and despite the pain he had to endure while Jihoon makes sure he puts on his bandages right, he definitely wouldn’t have his morning any other way.

After a hearty breakfast with Jihoon’s father down at the kitchens and taking Ori for a light stroll around the western grounds of the castle, they find themselves in dark, hooded winter coats just before noon breaks as they walk outside the palace and head to the southern village. There’s no sneaking out or using secret tunnels out of the grounds anymore, merely a step through the main gates and a bow of greeting to the guards when they pass through.

They visit Peter and Rooney first, and this time Jihoon makes sure he has money with them before they actually buy anything to feed them with. Afterwards they have lunch at the same bakery Jihoon had taken them to all those months ago when they first met, where they eat the very same meal and sit on the exact same spots they did on that day too. 

When their bellies are full and warm from the hot vegetable chowders and fresh bread, Jihoon then leads the way as they walk outside the southern gates of Maroowen. It’s a surreal experience, and that’s saying a lot considering everything that has happened since he woke up this morning had felt surreal, but walking out the kingdom borders on his own two feet with only one other person beside him—Daniel never thought that a day like this would ever come about his life.

“Watch your step now. The ground can be a little uneven from here,” Jihoon tells him a little later when they start deviating from the trodden path. The gates behind them are no longer visible, and Jihoon holds his hands as he moves over shrubs and foliage to enter the forest.

The air is thick and alive in just after a few steps in, where whispers of a far-off stream and the busy sounds of the inhabitants of the woods resonate all around them. The leaves are a myriad of oranges, yellows, and reds; all fallen on the ground in a colorful blanket of autumn. The ones that are still attached to the trees a more vibrant and striking, a bright painting against the blue of the sky.

“Can you wait here for a while?” Jihoon says when they finally stop behind a tree, just a few feet away now from an obvious clearing. “Deers tend to be a little cautious of humans they don’t recognize. Wait for my signal before you come closer, okay?”

Daniel just nods at him, watching as Jihoon makes it the rest of the way to stand in the center of the clear space. He takes his hood off, and he doesn’t think there will ever be a better scenery to put Jihoon in than here in the dense woods; his bright blonde hair bouncing off the sunlight, just as his honey-toned skin blends in with the trees. 

He whistles, a long and sweet note that feels like it travels along the trees rather than through them. He does this two times more and Daniel can even hear a few birds in the distance returning his call. It’s not much later though when there’s movement on the shrubs to Jihoon’s right, revealing two grown deer that come hopping off to him. He crouches to the ground, both hands going over to pet each of their heads.

Daniel watches all of this in fascination, almost to the point where he feels like he’s intruding on a special and private moment of nature. But then Jihoon turns back to his direction, nodding to him in a signal to come forward.

“Ansel, Dorian, I’d like you to meet someone,” Jihoon says once he’s walked close enough, slow and steady. “This is Daniel. He’s my partner.”

The word Jihoon uses for him strikes something strong in his chest that instantly warms up even the coldest parts of his body. He doesn’t forget his manners though, and he bows low to the two deer in greeting. His heart skips when he sees them bowing to him as well, the smile on his face is something he thinks he can never stop even if he tried.

“You can pet them. They’re really nice,” Jihoon says, mirroring his expression of glee. “Ansel’s feisty though, but only to me on occasion.”

As a response, the larger of the two deer sticks its tongue out to him. Daniel laughs, crouching down low to put his hand out to touch soft brown fur.

“They’re beautiful.” He rubs a gentle knuckle over their necks and jaws, nuzzling in warmth. One of them makes a scoff-like breath through its nose as it falls in more to his touch.

“They like you. Dorian says you smell good.” Jihoon chuckles, his teeth gleaming in the sunlight from where he watches them. “Ansel thinks you look very handsome.”

Daniel turns to look at him at that, shaking his head in lightness. “Well with all due respect, I think Ansel is slightly mistaken on that part. Especially when there’s someone here who’s a lot more handsome than me.”

From this vantage and lighting, he can clearly see the way Jihoon’s skin flushes a little pink as he purses his lips and breaks eye contact in bashfulness. The smaller of the two deer pulls its head back to look in between the two of them, loudly breathing through its nose before sauntering over to Jihoon’s side.

“What did he say?” Daniel asks, raising a curious eyebrow when Jihoon just begins to turn redder.

“Dorian thinks we look good together.”

It touches a bit of warmth on his face too, and he laughs out a shy breath when Jihoon proceeds to scratch the top of his head while wearing a huge grin on his face. 

They spend much of the afternoon just lazing about, sitting on the grass while playing and talking to the animals. It’s not just the deer, but a passing hare and a few birds even land in their little clearing as if they’re all here to say hello to Jihoon. Daniel really shouldn’t be all that surprised to know that even out here in the wilderness, Jihoon is loved by everyone around him. 

When the animals finish their time with them had all said their goodbyes, Daniel basks in the peace and serenity of the woods completely as he lies on the leaf-strewn grass next to Jihoon’s sitting figure. He watches the sky and the clouds, the trees and the way they sway and dance in the wind, and maybe he steals a few glances to his partner that he doesn’t at all mind when he gets caught from time to time.

“I’d like to introduce you to a family of sabertooths just east of here, but the cold weather sometimes makes them cranky. Even more than usual,” Jihoon tells him casually. Daniel sits up then, leaning a little so his body rests on him. 

“That’s okay. You already showed me so much today. I don’t want to be greedy.” Daniel leans a little more until his cheek hits the top of Jihoon’s head, using his blonde hair as a pillow for his head. “Thank you for bringing me here. I feel really honored that I get to share your special place with you.”

He feels Jihoon shift a little, and Daniel leans back to see him looking on with the warmest expression he’s ever seen on his face. 

“You’re welcome,” he says, all soft and fondness. “And the honor is all mine. I’m really glad to know that you’re happy.”

Jihoon holds out his hand then, and Daniel gladly reciprocates and wraps his own around it; palm to palm with their fingers clasped together tight. He stares at their hands, at the way his long and slender ones go so well against Jihoon’s wideness. Completely different and unalike, but made to be together anyway.

“You know, sometimes I still feel like I’m dreaming,” Jihoon starts, his eyes far away in thought as he speaks. “It’s really hard for me to believe that I’m allowed to do this—to kiss and hug you as much as I want, to take you around all these places. Especially today...I don’t know. It all just feels—”

“Surreal?” Daniel finishes for him, chuckling a little when he feels rather than sees Jihoon nodding. “I know what you mean. I also wonder myself how it’s even possible for someone like me to have someone like you.”

Jihoon purses his lips, doing that thing he does whenever he’s shying away from himself. “Daniel…”

“I’m serious.” He holds on to him tighter, relishing in his warmth. “I could’ve died that day, Jihoon. You saved me, even when you had every reason not to. You risked your life for me and now here I am sitting in the middle of a forest holding your hand. That’s something I don’t think I will ever truly comprehend.”

The concerned expression on Jihoon’s face slowly morphs back into an easy smile, and he nods in understanding over his words. He lifts their entwined hands up to his face, gives a small kiss on the top of Daniel’s hand before his eyes look back at him.

“I guess we both just have to accept that some fantasies can turn to reality sometimes,” Jihoon says, tilting his head to gesture at the forest. “Like this day for instance. It feels perfect.”

Daniel smirks at him, tapping his fingers over his. “You know what would make it even more perfect?” He closes his eyes then, puckering his lips and asking for a kiss. He feels and hears Jihoon laughing, and he waits for the contact to come when their hands slide out of each other and he feels him shift a little in his place. A few long seconds pass but it doesn’t come, and Daniel frowns and even pouts a little in the darkness of his closed lids. When he opens his eyes and looks to peek, he comes face to face with Jihoon who’s now looking a little pinkish—just before his eyes go down to his hands where he’s holding something between his fingers up in front of him. A small object, round and simple that looks like woven tendrils of some sort of plant forming the shape of—

—it’s a ring.

“I made this,” Jihoon starts, his voice coming out deep and soft, shy around the edges as he nods at what he’s holding. “It’s from the stem of an elverian rose. It’s a special plant because its body turns hard like stone as it wilts but shines in blues and silvers when it has fully dried out." He moves the ring a little, letting the sunlight glint off on its patterns and grooves. It's beautiful. "I, umm—read from a book at the library that this was an old custom among the elves of High Garden...when they professed their love to someone.”

Daniel can only blink, the smile on his face gone as his heart immediately jumps over to beat loudly in his ears. “Jihoon…” He tries to form his thoughts into words, failing miserably.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is, umm—” Jihoon continues, his eyes fixated on the ring. He blinks twice before looking up to meet his gaze again, his eyes full of reflective resolve. “I know that I’m not a prince...nor am I highborn, or rich, or even anything like all the other people you’ve met before. I have no lands of my own or any titles to my name...just an ordinary tailor's son who happens to be half an elf." He chuckles, exhaling his nervousness in a light laugh before pursing his lips and turning serious again.

"But I love you, Daniel. I love you...so much, and if there’s anything I have that I can offer, then it’s a promise.” He nods, his words bleeding of conviction that daniel feels wholehearted and true. “I can promise you that despite anything, I will continue to love you for as long as I live. I know that it’s probably not much but…” Jihoon trails off, visibly gulping down his nerves and clearing his throat before continuing.

“I‘d like to ask...if you’d be willing to give me the greatest honor of accepting that promise. Will you marry me, Daniel?”

A lump the size of his fist lodges itself in his throat as he stares at Jihoon while the weight of his words sink in. His heart is bursting, and he feels the familiar heaviness behind his eyes that could only mean for the coming of tears. He stares at the ring Jihoon’s made, traces with his eyes the vine-like intricacy of the small object and how they glint off and glimmer at the edges. Daniel raises a hand to come up to Jihoon’s, putting his palm over his wrist and gently pulling down.

“Jihoon...I—I can’t,” he says, the words coming out in a broken whisper. He doesn’t dare look at Jihoon’s face, nor does he try to. 

“Oh,” is all he gets in response, the hurt so evident in his voice that it literally rips out a wave of pain right through Daniel that hurts even worse than a spine of a dragon piercing his shoulder. “I...I understand.”

Jihoon starts pulling back his hand then, but Daniel holds on, keeps him in place.

“It’s not because I don’t feel the same way because I do, Jihoon. You know I do. And I love you... _ so much _ and—” His voice cracks, and he feels his first tear slide down his cheek. Ever since he woke up at the infirmary two weeks ago all battered and bruised, he knew then that all he wanted to do for the rest of his days—however short they may be—was to spend it with the person who never left the side of his bed the whole time he had been unconscious. Jihoon's happiness is what matters the most to him at this point, and as much as he doesn't want to admit it, Daniel has to accept that he's not the person to give him that.

"You deserve someone better," he says, and damn him if that didn't just send a spike to his chest. "Someone who won't doubt you or hurt you when you're being accused of...someone who won't betray you and leave. You deserve better than that, Jihoon."

He shakes his head to the ground, the heaviness and pain weighing him down. He’s about to wipe a sleeve on his face when he feels Jihoon’s hand come up to beat him to it, cupping his face in the same way he does when he’s the one crying.

"It's hard for me to imagine finding someone better, Daniel...when I feel like I'm already looking at the best," he says, words coming heavy with sincerity. "We all make mistakes...but just because we make a few doesn't mean I love you any less."

"I'm going to die, Jihoon," he says flatly, stating the fact bare. "My days are numbered...and I can’t say yes knowing that all I’m ever going to do is leave you.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Jihoon asks, the tone and tremble in his voice sounding like he’s starting to cry too. “And do you think I’d even be asking you now without considering it first? Daniel, please look at me.”

His face is pulled up then, forcing him to meet his own tear-stained gaze. Jihoon’s eyes are glassy, his cheeks wet. But what’s most surprising is that he’s smiling through it all.

“You could’ve chosen any of the other princes or princesses that came to you before. You could still choose them now, even—get married and save your life.” Jihoon shakes his head, the upturned corners of his lips unwavering. “But instead you chose me. You chose to love me over yourself and...I just want to show you that I choose you too, Daniel. I want to marry you because I love you, regardless of some stupid curse. Even if you have a year, or a few months or even just days left to live...nothing is going to change the fact that I want to be the person who will love you forever.”

His tears fall all the more freely when Jihoon’s words begin to hit and sink into him little by little, bringing a heaviness so profound and whole that’s filling his chest to the brim. 

“I just want you to be happy, Jihoon,” he says with so much certainty that he hopes could be felt from his very core. 

“And nothing would make me happier, Daniel...than to get the chance to be your husband."

That takes the final straw, and the walls of inhibitions he’s been fighting to hold up immediately crumble in with Jihoon’s words. Daniel leans forward then, closing the gap between them and placing his lips over his in a hard kiss. He can taste the saltiness of their tears, feel the slight surprise in the tension of Jihoon’s mouth until he soon starts kissing him back with the same intensity.

Daniel surrenders himself completely, pouring his entire heart and soul into the kiss and onto the person receiving it. He knows it’s incredibly selfish of him to agree to this—that he ought to at least fight a little harder in convincing Jihoon not to pursue him—but he can’t really bring himself to deny his own feelings anymore either. 

“So is that a yes?” Jihoon asks in a light chuckle when they break for air, smiling at the huge grin he probably has on his face. Daniel still can’t find the ability for speech, so he nods instead—right before cupping the underside of Jihoon’s jaw and kissing him again.


	13. The Last Prince

"Okay now, hold still."

"I've been keeping still for the past half hour Daehwi—"

"Shush!"

Jihoon clamps his lips shut, biting down with it the smile that threatens to break his face wide. He lifts his chin a little to make it easier for the Master of Wardrobe to finish affixing the ties and tassels on his bodice, holding his breath at half the effort to keep himself steady. When Daehwi finally stands straight, he takes a step back to assess his work, crossing his arms in the process and putting a hand under his chin in scrutiny. He comes back to make a few adjustments to his collar and his sleeve, and then to some strands of his hair until finally—he lets out a satisfied breath and breaks into a pleased smile.

"What?" Jihoon raises an eyebrow, the amusement coming in strong and contagious.

"See for yourself."” Daehwi places his hands over his shoulders then, slowly maneuvering him to turn around and face the full-length mirror behind him.

For the second time under the hands of his friend, Jihoon falls into a loss for words over the reflection staring back at him on the silvered glass. His blonde hair is impeccably tidy, brushed up and parted to fall into a neat fringe over one side of his forehead. His eyebrows are subtly darkened and his cheeks are the soft color of a ripening peach; accentuating the features of his face to their maximum extent. He’s never been one to fuss over about his outward appearance, but perhaps what most captures his eyes the most as he continues to stare at himself are the clothes adorning his body.

White and pristine, his perfectly fitting tunic hugs the form of his torso just right as it falls in an elegant curtain a few inches above his thigh. The forepart of the bodice is decorated with exorbitant patterns in rich brocade accents of silver vines and crawling flowers that extend all the way up to his collar, the colors and details matching that of the galloons that fringe his sleeves. The belt girded around his waist is in the same shade of blue as the first suit Daehwi had given him before, plated and embezzled with silver plates etched with similar-themed details that are reminiscent of the forest; as is the sash draped over one of his shoulders.

“Daehwi…” He starts to say, losing speech as he slightly turns this way and that to check every surface of detail on him. He makes a full turn to face his friend again, right before he wraps his slender body in a huge hug.

“You’re going to mess up your clothes,” Daehwi says jokingly, grinning from ear to ear when he holds him at arm's length.

“I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

The Master of Wardrobe just shakes his head and turns Jihoon back to face the mirror, his hands never leaving his shoulders as they stare at their reflections. “I just did the dressing, your father’s the genius behind all this. He’s a magnificent tailor.”

That he is, Jihoon thinks. He nods to himself, turning again to hold Daehwi’s hands warmly in his. “Still, thank you. For everything. I probably wouldn’t be where I am now if you never helped me dress the part everyday.”

The surface of Daehwi’s eyes turn glassy at that, and he smiles and forces himself to look upwards to keep evident tears from falling. He squeezes his hands in return, nodding in earnest.

“I knew I wasn’t wrong in thinking you and Daniel looked perfect together. Jaehwan chewing my ear off about it is definitely worth this.”

“Ha-ha. Very funny Daehwi.”

They both turn towards the door where the voice joins them. Jaehwan enters the room with an air of chivalrous confidence around him, but the smile he has on when his eyes land on them exudes a warmth that can put the afternoon sun to shame.

“Sungwoon’s looking for you,” the knight says, nodding to Daehwi. “He says he needs your help at the reception hall.”

“Okay, we’re just about done here anyway,” Daehwi says giving Jihoon one last nod and a squeeze of the hand. “I’ll see you down later.” He winks at him, before finally letting go and trotting to the door. 

Jaehwan comes closer then, the click of his boots on the marbled floor resounding silently as he stops to stand in front of him. He regards him with a sharp look, eyes going up and down his body in silent observation that brings a little heat up his face.

“Too much?” Jihoon asks shyly, gesturing to himself. A burst of warmth emanates from his chest when Jaehwan shakes his head.

“You look stunning, Jihoon. It suits you.” 

He purses his lips in a shy, tight smile, nodding to return the gesture. “Thank you. You’re not too bad yourself,” he says, noting the young knight’s refinements. He’s clad in onyx as dark as his hair; from his embroidered tunic to the dark steel of his belt and armaments, all the way down to the cape that falls just below his calf. The only other color that pops out from his entire ensemble is the silver hilt of the sword hanging on one side of his hip, glinting under the light.

Despite the warmth in the casual compliments of their words, there’s a bit of awkward tension in the air around them. Jihoon knows Jaehwan can feel it too by the way his lips are set in a line and at how his eyes constantly linger on his body rather than meeting his face. Eventually the knight lets out a sigh, looking up to finally meet his gaze. 

“I suppose now’s a good a time as any to finally talk to you, considering this is probably the only chance I’ll get to see you alone without Daniel clinging to your side in the next few days,” Jaehwan says with a light chuckle that Jihoon doesn’t shy away from joining in. “I owe you an apology, Jihoon.”

He blinks a little in surprise, not expecting that in the least. “Jaehwan, you don’t have to—”

“I do, actually...and for a lot of things." Jaehwan sighs, breaking eye contact for a second if only to look down at his own feet. "Before...when I started getting hints that you and Daniel were falling for each other, I haven't exactly been the nicest person to you. Considering the fact that we're supposed to be friends...I acted rather selfishly. I'm sorry."

Jihoon comes walks closer to him, placing a hand on his arm and making him meet his eyes. “You were only doing that because you were looking out for Daniel. It’s okay, I understand.”

Jihoon tries to give him a smile but Jaehwan shakes his head, shame coloring his face. “When Seongwu planted all that evidence to frame you, I was the one who pointed the finger of accusation without hesitation. I may have merely been a blind instrument to his plan but, you see the thing is...I  _ wanted _ to blame you that night..” Jaehwan sighs, his breath coming out heavy as his shoulders slump in weight. “I wanted you to be guilty because it took you out of the picture, which to me at the time was a good thing because it meant that Daniel wouldn’t get distracted with you anymore. I didn’t even give you a chance, and I should’ve seen right through it...but instead I became so fixated on keeping him safe from the curse that I ended up neglecting everything else in the process.”

Jihoon can feel the weight in his confession, solid and heavy in its descent down his stomach. He wants to tell Jaehwan that he doesn’t—and never did he ever—blame him for anything that happened. But he doesn’t think any of the words he wants to say will ever lift up the burden the knight is carrying.

“People died...you and Daniel almost died—and all because I couldn’t get past my narrow-minded selfishness. I can't even imagine where we would be right now if you hadn't stepped in that day."

Jihoon’s about to rebuke that, say that he was only doing what anyone would’ve done in that situation but then Jaehwan does something he doesn’t expect that the surprise all but renders him speechless—the young knight starts to kneel on the ground and dips his head in a low bow in front of him. 

“I am indebted to you, Jihoon. You saved me, my best friend, and this kingdom from peril despite the odds I placed upon you. As the last surviving member of the Black Knights...and possibly the future king of Maroowen, I swear to you an unbreakable oath—I offer you my loyalty and my promise to protect you for the rest of my days. You have my word.”

He feels something choking up at his throat and the pull under his eyes that would let his tears fall out. He holds it in and swallows it down, right before he kneels down on the floor with Jaehwan and wraps him in a hug. He ignores the surprised tension he feels against his body and just buries his chin over the young knight’s shoulder, whispering his words.

“Jaehwan...thank you,” he says, pulling back a little to face him. “You don’t have to do this for me. You already have my forgiveness.”

Jaehwan just smiles at him then, a tug on his lips that presses in a dimple on his cheek. “I want to. It’s the least I can do to make up for my mistakes.”

In the time he’s spent with him, Jihoon knows to the very core of his being that Jaehwan is a man of honor. There won’t be anything he can say that can change his mind at this point so he just nods in respect for his decision. He helps him back up his feet and off the floor then, giving him one final hug before stepping back. 

“I’m really glad I let Daniel sneak out to go to the southern village that day,” Jaehwan says, placing a hand over Jihoon’s shoulder and chuckling at the memory. “Thank you for making him happy, Jihoon. I know that it contradicts my actions in the past but...I’m really glad that you’re the one he ends up marrying.”

He feels a few more tears escape his eyes, but is caught by Jaehwan’s thumb before it gets a chance to roll of his cheek. They finally step back from each other, and Jihoon is elated to feel that the air around them has gotten so much lighter than it was a few minutes prior. They’re both smiling now, and Jihoon waves and promises to see him later when Jaehwan excuses himself and bows out of the room.

He goes back to the mirror, looks back at his reflection and attempts to get a hold of his emotions. It’s not the lingering weight of his conversation with Jaehwan and Daehwi anymore that’s filling him up but rather the nerves and jitters rumbling down with the rampant butterflies in his stomach. He’s getting married. It’s going to happen—he’s going to marry Daniel.

A knock on the door snaps him out of his excited and nervous musings, and he turns to see the person who’s here to bring him down to where the grand event is going to happen. He breaks into a smile, rushing forward and crashing against his father’s arms in a tight hug.

“Oh, Jihoon. Look at you,” his father says, pulling back so he can hold him and give him a once over as a fond look crosses his features. “How does the suit feel? It’s not too tight is it? Oh, you look so good!”

Jihoon chuckles at his father’s ramblings, nodding happily. “Everything you make looks good, Appa. It’s perfect. Daehwi did a good job of getting me ready.”

“He really did.” His father hugs him again, wrapping his arms tight. “How are you feeling?”

Jihoon pulls down his lips in an awkward grin when he steps back from his father’s embrace and gives a shrug. “Excited. Happy—a little nervous.”

It gets him a light laugh, and Jihoon being under the jittery state he’s in joins easily with his own chuckle. His father presses a confident hand over his arm, soothing him off his nerves. “That’s perfectly normal, Jihoon. Did I ever tell you that when your mother and I got married, I vomited all over my suit an hour before the ceremonies?”

“Really??” Jihoon laughs even harder, a hand flying up to his mouth on instinct. “What did you do?”

“Well, it’s a good thing tailoring is our family’s business...and that I happened to have a suit I made that was waiting for a customer to pick up the next day.” His father chortles at the memory, garnering another round of laughter.

“What did mother look like?” Jihoon asks after they’ve recovered a bit, although his grin still lingers. “Was she nervous too?”

“Well—” His father makes to look up, pondering in thought, “—she was beautiful. The most beautiful I’ve ever seen her. And she didn’t look nervous at all, although she did tell me afterwards that it definitely wasn’t the case. She didn’t vomit though, I’ll give her that.”

Jihoon takes it in, the picture his mind produces of a young version of his parents on their wedding day; all smiles and lightheartedness, much like the expression his father is giving him now.

“Do you miss her?” He asks, although it’s a relatively stupid question considering the answer is quite plain and obvious. 

“Everyday, son. Everyday,” his father tells him. There isn’t sadness in his tone but rather a fondness, an acknowledgment of the present and the chrished past.

"Is it hard?" Jihoon finds himself asking, the question opening up a rawness he had closed just before his father had walked in. "I mean...missing her. And living without her."

It must come as a surprise that he's asking if the small, confused frown his father makes is anything to go by, but he's glad that he answers anyway.

"It is," he says, soft and solemn. "There are days when it's especially hard. Random days, even. I could be working on a suit or just tending our garden when all of a sudden I just feel like...there's something missing. Like there's something I'm looking for but I can't quite find."

Jihoon can probably imagine a little of how that must feel like; missing a part of your life you know you can't have. It's what he had to go through in all the times he was thrown into the dungeons; when he'd been arrested and taken out of his own home.

"But you know what?” His father continues, his tone picking back up with radiance. “I’m thankful that those days don’t come as much anymore. There are better days now, and even if I still miss your mother, I miss her in happiness.”

“How?” Jihoon asks, and maybe a little of his desperation seeps through but he doesn’t mind. The hand over his arm is soothing, a wash of calm.

“The people we love don’t really ever leave us, you see. Love is much too strong for it to just vanish away with life,” his father says, his hand coming up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “You hold on to that love, Jihoon. All the moments you had in fondness and they will stay with you forever. And if you’re lucky, that love will come for you in a different form—and I guess in my case, that was you.”

He feels his mouth quiver, and he bites down his lip to keep himself in check as he hugs his father again. He doesn’t want to think about it too much—he’s promised Daniel not to—but it’s a comfort to hear this coming from a man who’s gone through the same.

“I have something for you,” his father says when they step back from each other, his hands coming off of him and going to his pockets. He pulls a small object out, wrapped in thick parchment and tied with twine. The paper wrapping looks old—yellowed as if it hasn’t been put out to see the light in a very long time. 

“This was your mother’s," he says, brushing both his thumbs over the surface of the paper. "Today of all days, I’m sure she would want you to have it.”

His father passes him the gift, and Jihoon stares at the thing in his hands with wonder and awe. He doesn’t have much from his mother to remember her by, and this is probably the closest thing to a physical memory to own. He unties the twine with a tug on one end, carefully unfolding and peeling away the layers of paper to reveal the present it holds.

His eyes widen when he finally locks gaze with the object, his mouth falling agape in admiration as it sits on his palm. It’s a small brooch in the shape of a rose, three-dimensional and made of some kind of material he’s never seen before. It shimmers in gold at first glance but as he shifts and moves it around, the light that hits it more resembles the glimmer of a diamond. It’s glass-like, but not entirely, and the composition just helps bring out the details of the ornament even more. A central rose with blooming petals, surrounded by a halo of vines and leaves with each vein carved in delicate perfection. 

“Appa…” Jihoon’s at a loss, his thoughts scrambled by reverence. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

“Let me help you put it on.” 

Jihoon passes it back to him with both hands cupping the brooch, passing it as if it’s a sacred offering. His father chuckles, takes the brooch and pins it over his chest and near his heart. They turn to look at the mirror again, and Jihoon almost cries over the idea that he has a suit made by his father and a little something from his mother now too. His attire reminds him much more of the forest now, with vines and leaves and now a blooming flower to top it all off.

“It’s almost time. Shall we head down now?” His father asks, extending an arm which Jihoon more than happily takes. He gives their reflection one last glance before he nods, his excitement taking over him at the thought of finally seeing Daniel.

  
  
  
  
  


The ceremony is taking place all the way at the eastern wing of the castle, over at the atrium just beside the library. The gardens on this side of the palace are sparse yet beautiful, but Sungwoon mostly chose this spot because it’s probably the only part of the castle right now that’s well away from the construction areas. 

Jihoon had only requested for a small wedding, nothing too extravagant and with only their friends and families to come in attendance. And while Daniel had been more than happy to grant him that wish, he still  _ is  _ a crowned prince of the kingdom which only meant that the standard for 'small and simple’ varied quite differently from his. The hallways leading to the atrium already look lavish with flowers and silks hung along the walls of the corridor that he can only imagine what it all actually looks like beyond the doors.

“Still nervous?” His father asks from beside him, an amused smile upturning his lips.

“Yes,” Jihoon says, feeling like the answer is quite the understatement to how he actually feels. He’s not about to vomit at least.

The door ahead of them opens just slightly, only enough for a head to poke through and look out. Sungwoon sees them immediately, eyes widening when his gaze lands on Jihoon right before he passes a huge smile to his father. He gives them a nod before going back in, and soon the double doors are being opened to their maximum breadth.

The first thing Jihoon notices above everything is  _ literally  _ what is above everything. The atrium opens up to the sky in its usual state but today there’s a carpet of flowers hanging overhead that forms a beautiful canopy over the entire yard. Large, white peonies and lilies make up for the mass, but Jihoon can see the blue dabbles of forget-me-nots and the radiance of a few marigolds in the mix. The late afternoon that sun passes through the spaces in between the flowers and its petals radiate in the most breathtaking way, acting as some sort of natural chandelier that helps illuminate the white carpet he’s set to walk on. 

The soft hum of a violin starts their course, and he follows on as he and his father walk down the aisle. He looks at the sparse arrangement of chairs around them, occupied by only a handful of people he all knows to heart. Daehwi and Sungwoon, Jinyoung and some of the few kitchen staff, and the few servants he's come to know and work with over the months. Woojin and his family are on the front row of the seats to his right, and he feels something blossoming in his chest when his best friend gives him the widest grin he's ever seen on his face.

It’s quite a shame that everything pales in comparison the moment his eyes find their way forward, because Jihoon doesn’t think that anything can ever give him the same feeling that’s bursting inside of him when he finally locks eyes with the person waiting for him at the end of the aisle. Standing tall and regal as ever, there at the very center right beside Jisung and Jaehwan and Ori, is Daniel—smiling at him with closed lips that convey so much happiness that it seeps right out of him in waves. In a matter of seconds, all the jittery excitement and nervous butterflies in his system fade away, only to be replaced by a huge douse of calm that leaves him breathless and full at the same time.

He nods to his father when he lets him go to sit beside Woojin, and he now finds himself face to face with the man making his heart pound a hundred beats per minute. He smiles back, finally understanding what his father had meant earlier when he had described his mother on the day of their wedding—Daniel has never looked more dashing than this moment.

“You’re very handsome too,” Daniel tells him, and he blinks in bashful surprise in realizing that he had spoken his thoughts out loud.

“Shall we begin?” Jisung asks them, his tone bordering on the palpable joy that's not unlike the atmosphere coating the room. They both nod at the same time, the euphoria spreading contagiously.

Jihoon's a little ashamed to admit it but when Jising begins his speeches to start the ceremony, he more or less tunes his voice out as he continues to stare arduously at Daniel's face. It neither helps him in the least when he sees the prince make a very subtle twitch of the right corner of his lip, an indication that all his attention is just as focused on him too.

Even in the blinks their eyes make, in the breaths that passes silently through their noses, they're able to communicate without a worry; a silent conversation that mildly engrosses them to the point that they both startle a little when Jisung calls for their attention again.

"S-sorry?" Daniel turns to their officiator when he clears his throat, a light laugh tickling his words. Jihoon doesn't even hold back a chuckle.

"It's time to say your vows," Jisung repeats for him in fond annoyance, to which Daniel just nods at before facing back to Jihoon and reaching forward to take his hands in his.

“Jihoon,” Daniel breathes out his name, a single word full of endearment and affection to match the way his hands squeeze at his own. “I know I made us promise not to think or even speak of it today, but I don’t think I can deliver my vows without at least mentioning the chivalry of your love.”

Daniel shoulders rise and fall in the heaviness of the breath he takes, sighing slowly before he turns his head to the side to look at their guests and then back at him. Jihoon gives him the subtlest of nods, encouraging.

“I only have a fortnight to my life because of the curse I carry, and I’m going to die and leave this world much sooner than I’d prefer. And you know all that, just as much as I do and yet...you, Jihoon, still choose to tie yourself to me.” Daniel makes a pause, as if the words he’s pulling out are hard and laborious. “I cannot even begin to imagine what I have done in the past that would make me deserving to be with someone like you. Someone who’s so incredibly selfless and kind, so brave and gentle and amazing in every way.”

His voice comes out thick and he takes another second to clear his throat. His eyes are coated in glass, a small pool forming on the underside of his lids. “I was given a chance to live out my life a little more when you saved me and the rest of the kingdom from peril, and the moment I woke up in the infirmary I knew then—right to the core of my being—that my life didn’t belong to me anymore.” Daniel shakes his head, and with it falls the first of his tears that reaches the tips of his smile. “My life is yours, Jihoon. And however short it may be, I promise you that for the remainder of my days, I will strive to make you the happiest person you could ever become. I will stand by you, hold you and love you as you so rightfully deserve, for as long as I’ll be yours.”

Jihoon can feel his own tears sliding down his face now too, heavy in form that drops away from the base of his chin. He squeezes Daniel’s hand, and nods a few times and even lets out a small chuckle to pull himself together. When he’s sure his voice is stable enough not to crack, he speaks.

“Someone special told me...that the people we love never really leave us.” He pulls the words out despite the thickness in his throat, and he takes a second to glance to where his father is sitting, his face also awash with tears and evident worry. “And as scared as I am of losing you, Daniel...I know that those words will hold true for me—for us.”

He smiles then, tight-lipped and brimming with hope and joy that he knows is sincere and genuine. “The day will come where I won’t be able to hold you like this anymore, or hear your voice or see your smile as I’ve grown to love over my days with you. The time will come when I will cry my hardest and miss you with every ounce of my being, when I will probably scream and beg in wishing to have you back.” He chokes up a little, the sting in his chest coming at him hard. He keeps his face from contorting too much and from drowning in his own tears, and he fights on.

“But you will never leave me, Daniel. I know you won’t,” he says, with a conviction so strong that it resonates down to his core. “The light may fade and you will be out of reach...but you will never be out from my heart. You will always inspire me, and you will forever be a part of everything I do. I’ll make certain our love lasts forever that way, for as long as you’ll be mine.”

Daniel’s face is glistening and his eyes red by the time Jihoon finishes his vows. He lets go of one of his hands for a small moment to wipe brush away some tears, smiling widely when he’s done. Jihoon returns the gesture, using his fingers to rub soothing circles over his hands. He only notices now that they’re not the only ones awash with tears; Jisung has a hand over his mouth in a poor attempt to contain himself, and Jaehwan who’s standing behind them is rubbing his eyes with the back-hand of his sleeves while rubbing the other distractedly over Ori’s fur. It gets him and Daniel to smile wider at the very least, keeping the air light.

“I’m sorry, I—” Jisung clears his throat, fanning his hands over his face for composure. “I believe I speak for everyone in the room when I say that your words have all move us just now.” He makes for a light chuckle that everyone joins in on, lighthearted in tone.

“Under the eyes of the Lord of Light, with your vows spoken to being, do you both solemnly swear to uphold your words and deem them true and just?” Jisung asks, continuing the ceremony. Jihoon nods, just as Daniel says ‘I do’.

“Then as a representative bishop from the Church of Light, I present your love to the Lord and to all those who bear witness here today, as husband and groom—partners for life.” Jisung smiles, putting his hands over both their shoulders. “May your love in holy matrimony bless your days until the end of the night. Prince Daniel?”

Jisung addresses him, and Daniel reluctantly turns his head.

“You may now kiss your spouse.”

As if it’s something he’d been waiting for since dawn, he takes not a second more and pulls Jihoon gently towards him. He expertly loops an arm behind his waist and places a hand under his jaw as he plants a long kiss on his lips, one that Jihoon meets earnestly with a smile on his face. 

Jihoon hears a small round of applause all around them just as the sound of violins start humming again, and Jihoon wraps his own arms around Daniel’s body as he kisses him deeper and fuller. His heart is soaring to a height he never knew was possible, skin tingling and warm at the touch of his husband. Only a few stray tears linger in his eyes for which all are of joy and happiness.

He feels it in their kiss, on the surface of his lips, when Daniel movements begin to stutter in their ferocity. For a second he doesn’t think it much, but then he feels the hold on his chin and waist weaken perceptively to the point that it almost feels like he’s falling. He pulls away and sees the prince’s face contorted in pain, and almost immediately his legs give and Jihoon has to put all his strength to keep him up.

“Daniel?”

One of the prince’s hands frantically clutch at his arm while another goes to his own chest—scrunching the fabric of his tunic where his heart lay beneath.

“Daniel what’s wrong?” Jihoon asks frantically by which time everyone in the room has already sensed the trouble. Jaehwan is beside him in an instant, helping in keeping him up.

“Niel—”

The knight’s words drown just as Daniel howls in pain, his voice a roar in that silences the entire room with panic. He’s gripping them tightly now, wailing in a guttural timber that pierces right through Jihoon’s soul, leaving him helpless and worried.

“J-Jaehwan, what’s going on? Why is he—”

A strong pulsating wave of  _ nothing _ pushes him back and off his feet. Jaehwan’s maneuvered himself to break his fall when they land hard on the ground a few feet away. He apologizes to the knight when in a hurried whisper, but none of that starts to matter to him when he looks on and sees Daniel floating in midair right on the spot.

“Daniel!” He gets up in record time, grabbing the hilt of Jaehwan’s sword from beside him when dark, smoky tendrils start to emanate and swirl around the prince. Jihoon fights to keep his focus, eyes darting everywhere and nowhere looking for whoever is causing this; a task proving to be difficult amidst the screams and howls of pain.

**_‘On the eve of his twenty-second birthday, when the sun crosses the line to let rise the first full moon of winter—’_ **

A deep voice echoes in booming clarity around the atrium, striking panic among everyone in the vicinity. The canopy of flowers from their immaculate arrangements earlier are flying everywhere now, but Jihoon doesn’t let his guard down and just points his sword in a readied stance.

The black tendrils of smoke waver in the air, making way for another to join the mix; a brighter and warmer light, almost glowing in its form as it swirls around Daniel carrying the voice of a woman.

_ ‘In the name of all that is good and pure, I offer a sacrifice of love to the Lord of Light—’ _

The wisps are clashing in contest, and the only reason Daniel has stopped screaming is because it looks like he’s passed out from whatever pain is coursing through him.

**_‘When the prince has lived a life of freedom and comfort, when he is loved and has loved in return—’_ **

_ ‘A life for a life. To break the curse of eternal sleep—’ _

The few lanterns in the room all but snuff out their lights and the two magics battling for dominance in and around the prince rumble in an echo that could be felt through the floor. Jihoon thinks he hears Ori growling, a contrast to everyone else who’s stupefied to silence. 

**_‘I place upon a curse that will end his life, for he shall die in the darkness—’_ **

_ ‘—and in light shall he be saved. In holy matrimony of love and purity, he shall live!’ _

The same energy pulsates around the atrium again but this time it comes with a flash of blinding light, knocking whatever’s left of the hanging floral canopy and the chairs and decors around the atrium. The wisps disappear without much preamble, leaving Daniel to fall from his position. Jihoon drops Jaehwan’s sword and runs just in time to catch him, his weight knocking them both to the ground.

“Daniel—Daniel!”

He places a hand on his cheek, and he breathes a heavy sigh of relief when the prince’s eyes begin to flutter open. Jihoon doesn’t even realize he’s crying until he buries his face on the crook of Daniel’s neck, squeezing the worry out of him.

“W-what happened?”

“Are you okay?” Jihoon’s voice comes out broken, and he must be hysterical right now when the next thing out of his mouth is a small laugh. “You scared the heck out of me is what happened!”

“I don’t—what?”

By now everyone else has gathered around them, worried faces surrounding vicinity. Ori’s the only brave soul to join their place on the floor, squeezing her large body in the mix and pouncing over Daniel to lick the his face.

“Ori! Hey!”

The relief that floods through his system in hearing Daniel react that way calms every buzzing nerve he’d been holding, and it’s in this rough housing and giant paws of excitement that he notices what’s different. He’s hung around Daniel’s presence for so long now that the anomaly—or rather the absence of one—makes itself apparent even more as he watches them scuffle. He places a hand on Ori to calm her down right before he puts a hand over Daniel’s chest. 

Nothing. He doesn’t feel anything,

“What’s wrong?” Daniel asks, sensing his concern.

“Your scar.” The words tumble out of his mouth, his eyes still transfixed on the spot below his neck where the edges of the dark mark  _ always  _ peeked out from behind his shirt. His hands travel upwards, pulling a little on his collar to reveal nothing but clear skin.

Daniel finally catches on to what he’s going on about and looks down for himself. Without a single thought for all the eyes watching them, he looses the tassels and buttons securing his white tunics and pulls down his clothes to reveal his bare chest—the muscled expanse free of blemish and stain save for a few small moles freckling the surface.

Jisung is the first to gasp, but Jaehwan is the next to kneel on the ground beside them to place his own gloved hand over Daniel’s skin.

“It’s gone,” the young knight says, pointing out the obvious as if saying it aloud was a necessary step to believing what’s in front of them. “It’s gone. H-how is that possible? I thought—”

“Were we wrong?” Sungwoon pipes in, just as frantic as the surrounding air. “Were we wrong this whole time?”

“That can’t be...”

"Then how—?"

“That brooch,” Daehwi starts to say, interrupting all of them with a finger. “Jihoon, where did you get that brooch?”

All eyes are suddenly on him now, staring in perplexity. All are of confusion and wonder, and it seems that only Jisung seems to pick up on what Daehwi is pointing at when he steps closer and looks at the object in question, his eyes widening with—recognition?

"Where did you get that?" Jisung repeats, the urgency evident in his tone.

“M-my father gave it to me,” he answers with a hand immediately going over to the ornament. He stutters in hesitation when he sees the worried look his father is giving him. “It was my mother’s.”

Daehwi and Jisung exchange a confused look, and Daniel mirrors the concern his father is similarly having. The line of conversation is heading for a topic he knows he shouldn't tackle, especially now. But ultimately it’s Jaehwan who voices out the question in everyone’s heads.

“What is it Jisung?”

The head steward gives him another thoughtful look, sighing when he starts to explain. “Jihoon’s brooch—I’ve only ever seen it in books so I'm not too certain but...it looks to be the exact same image as the crest of High Garden.”

Almost everyone then turns their heads at the mention of the words, leaving more confusion in the air. "High Garden? The elven kingdom?" Jaehwan asks, yet again voicing out the question on everybody's tongue. "What does a fallen empire have to do with Daniel's curse?"

"I don't know. Unless…" Jisung looks at him again, and then to his father who suddenly looks all the more blown by worry.

"Appa," Jihoon calls out, alarmingly coming up short with what to say. Aside from a few facts, he’s just as clueless as everyone else here. The questions he wants to ask stop at his tongue, hesitating in fear. Eventually though, it's Daniel who pulls the words out.

"It's okay, sir," he says to his father, finally getting up from the ground. "I trust everyone in this room with my life. I won't let anyone harm Jihoon. You have my word."

His father still hesitates, eyes darting around with misgivings and doubt. When he finally concedes, a heavy sigh follows him as he steps forward to face everybody.

"Jihoon's mother was an elf," he says, the fact coming in hard that just earns him looks of uncertain disbelief. It’s not new to a few, but the surprise is still palpable.

“T-that’s not possible,” Jaehwan whispers, shaking his head a little. “The elves have long been gone. Calamity Magus—”

“I met Jihoon’s mother outside Maroowen around the time the calamity happened. She had survived, although barely, and I took her back to my home where she and I lived together and had Jihoon.” His father explains, and whatever else Jaehwan had been thinking to say die in his gaping mouth. There’s something building up here, something big that Jihoon isn’t too sure of himself but he can feel it.

“If that were true—” Sungwoon starts to say, just as perplexed as Jaehwan in his tone. “Even if Jihoon  _ is  _ an elf, it still doesn’t explain Daniel’s scar disappearing.”

“He’s right.” Jisung nods in agreement, a slight frown marring his brows. “It doesn’t make any sense—”

“Elven glass,” Daehwi says suddenly, stepping forward and closer to Jihoon, eyes still never having left his brooch. “I knew it looked familiar. I’ve studied jewels and accessories my whole life and if Jihoon’s mother was an elf, this could only be made of Elven glass.”

“So?” Jaehwan raises a skeptical eyebrow, one that gets him a heavy eye roll from the Master of Wardrobe. 

“Elven glass is a material that not everyone is allowed to own even in High Garden, much less to have been made into a brooch,” Daehwi explains matter-of-factly, and then to Jihoon’s father he says, “She wasn’t an ordinary elf, was she?”

The question comes out more as a statement than anything, one that just creases the lines on his forehead even more. He turns to Jihoon then, addressing the next few words to him directly.

“No...she wasn't.” He shakes his head at them, to barely held breaths and anticipated stares. Jihoon thinks his face is probably not too far either, one that his father notices as he exhales a breath and places a hand to rest on his shoulder. “We had wanted to keep it a secret until your twentieth birthday Jihoon, but—"

His father pauses, eyes darting from his brooch then to his own. There’s a small smile on his lips, but one Jihoon doesn’t recognize or equate to joy. It looks more like a smile of regret.

"Your mother...was a crowned princess, Jihoon. The heiress to the throne of her kingdom."

The looks of disbelief now increase tenfold and the air turns thick with a haze of uncertain shock. Daehwi’s jaw falls open, not unlike the rest of the people in the room. Even Woojin and his family who already know of his ethnicity look to be just as bewildered by this, if not more. Jihoon can only stare at his father in the same way, doing his best to wrap his head around what he just said.

“If she was a princess,” Jisung starts to say, his voice coming out wild and breathless. “T-that means—”

“Jihoon is of royal blood,” Daniel finishes for him, taking his first step forward in awe and surprise as the facts start to sink into their system. “My scar is gone because...Jihoon is the last prince of High Garden.”

Everyone’s eyes fly to him again, all wide with surprise. Jihoon on the other hand can’t process any of it; not the astonished looks from Jaehwan and Sungwoon nor the hanging of Jisung’s jaw. Not the huge smile that’s slowly breaking open Daehwi’s face or even the lingering confusion in his father’s. 

His mind only seems to wrap around one thing and to one truth only—spoken to in his gaze that Daniel meets wholeheartedly.

“The curse...is gone?” He dares to speak it out, afraid to step all the way in case he gets himself hurt again. But the smile Daniel gives him makes him feel otherwise, and this time it’s the prince that takes the step for them—bridging their gap and taking his hands in warmth.

“It’s gone. You saved me, yet again,” Daniel says, before he crushes Jihoon in a huge hug that has everyone in the room erupting in simultaneous bouts of laughter, tears, and applause of near hysterics. Jihoon doesn’t blame them—how can he when all he can think to do himself is to cry and hold on to Daniel’s body just as tightly as he is. 

For the moment, nothing else matters. Save for the singular fact that he doesn’t have to think about letting go of Daniel in the near future.

  
  
  
  
  


***

  
  
  
  
  


The wedding, despite all the ruckus caused by uninvited magics and shocking revelations of lineages and histories, had relatively been a success. The reception after the ceremony was joyous, the food spectacular to everybody’s palates, and the festivities ended with a lot more tears and smiles of laughter and joy than anyone had ever anticipated. 

Jihoon got to dance with his husband, kiss him and show their love to their families and friends. He got to sleep with him as the moon rose high in the sky without ever feeling that he was running out of time. He got to celebrate their love and relish the air of the moment, all without worry or thorn.

The bliss of ignorance does not—and cannot—last forever though, as Jihoon soon learns on the days that came after. Having freed Daniel’s curse is one thing, but the consequence of the meaning from actually having done so involves a lot more facets and changes to his life that he’s not too certain he’s ready to take on yet. 

He envies Jaehwan for having escaped his fate of being pushed into the role of a king, because when Daniel tells him a few days after their wedding that he plans to give him the official title of a ruling prince of Maroowen, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be ready for such a feat.

“You’ll make a great prince,” Daniel says, unclothed and bare and laying underneath his own body as they cuddle under their bed covers. His smile is contagious, but it doesn’t help ease the nervous butterflies in his stomach.

“I don’t even have the slightest idea of how to  _ be _ a prince, much less rule an entire kingdom,” he pouts his lips, to which Daniel unhesitatingly kisses with his own.

“You’re a fast learner. I’ll teach you, like I always have.”

“Table manners don’t really equate all that well to being a full monarch.” He honestly still has his own misgivings about the whole ordeal, of suddenly finding out that he’s actually highborn and not a simple commoner as he’s so believed his entire life. “Does my title still even count? I mean, High Garden doesn’t even exist anymore right?”

“It doesn’t work like that, Hoon.” Daniel chuckles, placing a soft peck on his nose that is as warm as the pet name he mouths. “And you’re married to me now. That fact alone still changes everything.”

“I didn’t know marrying you would entail so much political labels,” he says, and immediately begins to regret his words when he sees Daniel’s smile fall.

“Do you regret marrying me?”

It sends his heart high into a panic, and the shake of his head follows through. “N-no! Of course not. I didn’t mean—”

A grin plasters itself on his husband's face again, followed by a breathy staccato laugh he can feel directly against his chest in soft, bouncing rumbles. 

“Bully.” Jihoon pouts some more, getting him another peck on the jut of his lips. 

“You’re not alone, Jihoon.” Daniel suddenly swerves the tone of their conversation, his hands coming to wrap tighter around his waist in a warm embrace. “I know how daunting it is, but I want you to know that you’re not alone. You’ll have me this time. From now ‘til forever, you’ll have me by your side.”

He leans up then, meeting his lips again but this time in a longer, and much more passionate kind of kiss. The kind that has Jihoon's heart feeling like it's doing somersaults at a marathon, pounding rabid like a caged animal in the confines of his chest. The kind of kiss that makes him want more,  _ take _ more, by leaning and sinking more into Daniel.

Jihoon holds on to this feeling, this sensation of being one with him that sure enough brings him comfort in the short time it takes for the coronation ceremony that commences days later. Much like how his fate had changed when he had been arrested in his home and thrown to become a servant in the palace all those months ago, he just goes with whatever the world has decided to throw at him this time.

“Presenting to the people of the lands beyond the forests, to the citizens of the kingdom at the heart of Esna—”

Jihoon knows by now that his life will never turn in the way he expects; that there will always be a couple of surprises for him at every corner that will make him stumble, and sometimes fall.

“I hereby proclaim Kang Daniel; First of his name and the heir of the late monarch; Lord of our land and the protector of our realm; King of Maroowen!”

He may not like things at first and he may find times hard, but much like before he faces his trials with his chin held high and his courage in place.

“—and the King’s partner; his rock and his life, the savior and hero of the land—”

At least he isn’t in a dungeon anymore, and neither are his hands bound by skin-prickling twine. Instead he has the smiles and affection of the people he’s come to know as his family, and the warmest of hands intertwined with his own. It’s in this that he knows for certain that everything will be okay—that  _ he’ll  _ be okay—for his has the love of his life to stand beside him, forever and always.

“—his royal highness and high prince of Maroowen. Park Jihoon!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the longest fic I have ever written in such a short amount of time and possibly my favorite. If you're reading this and you made it this far, I just want to say thank you. You have no idea how happy it makes me feel that you've given my story a chance :) 
> 
> This ship is dead—that's the hard truth of it, and nothing has been more disappointing to me than the fact that I joined the fandom too late. Last one in is the last one to leave I guess, but I wouldn't exactly call it 'leaving'. Deep down, even if I will continue to sit here blaming and semi-hating (lol) the person who killed this ship, NielWink will always have a special place in my heart even if I only have their past to cherish.
> 
> I spent my entire 2019 writing stories for them, and I still have a few stories that are 'under progress' that I so badly want to bring to life. I might upload them in the future (I hope), or I might not. But regardless, I wanted to thank you for reading whatever I churned out of my brain in the past year hahaha. I hope that my stories have left something beyond entertainment, and I hope that they fill you with fond memories for this pair as is the case for me.
> 
> Lastly, to the people who made friends with me and who went out of their way to pry my shell open just to share some love and support while we all went on this roller coaster ride of feels, betrayal, anger, and disappointment—I am eternally grateful. Some friendships evidently don't last, but I hope the ones I made will. Thank you!


End file.
